An Unexpected Homecoming
by Estenthel
Summary: In the midst of a heat wave, the House of Elrond is suffering from too many elves, dwarves, men, hobbits and babies.
1. Prologue

Prologue

After the Great War at the end of the Second Age, the histories were written depicting the honourable deeds performed by the mighty elf Lords, the valiant efforts of the (more humble) elves against all that Sauron could possible conjure, and the sacrifice that so many elves had made. Such histories made emphasis of the fate of Isildur, of his weakness, of how he failed to bring a complete end to the wars. They also went into great detail depicting the precise way in which Gil-galad had nearly cut Sauron's finger off, but not quite, leaving Isildur to cut the ring off. This demonstrated beautifully how it was that the elves sacrificed themselves for the good of mankind.

Needless to say, such histories were written by the elves for everyone else to read. As humans are gifted with a somewhat frail and in a word "bad" memory, it was left to the elves (who, after all have perfect recollection of precisely which piece of fruit it was that they ate for breakfast nine centuries previously and its location in the fruit bowl _as well as _the reason they chose that one instead of the one to the left) to remind them of who it was who actually won the battles, who against all the odds triumphed over evil and whom it was that actually was able to cross the sea to the undying lands. And as elves regard themselves as natural songwriters and storytellers they embellished them, leaving out the boring bits (which no one would have read anyway) and improving the more interesting sections on how swords shattered and fingers fell off.

And so it was that history was distorted. History became legend, legend did indeed pass into myth and for two and a half thousand years the histories of Middle Earth stayed elvish. Men being too wrapped up in building an impossibly white city, dwarves being too busy digging holes and ents working too hard in the search of the entwives, it was left to the 'fairer race' to school everyone else in the 'real' happenings of the battles of the Last Alliance.

Until however, when chance came, deeds that had occurred and had been forgotten were uncovered. Mislaid relations were found, and above all else, the truth about the fairer race was uncovered. All of this was due to the brave adventures and sometimes perilous quests of someone who, had history been kinder (or indeed, had history been written solely by the elves) would have been overlooked completely.

It was due to this historian that the truth of a certain Elf Lord (one of the last Noldorian Princes East of the Sea no less) finally came out. According to the legend, Elrond the half elven had four children. Three sons (Elladan, Elrohir and Aragorn, though Aragorn was adopted) and one daughter. Celebrian, wife of Elrond knew only three of them, as Aragorn had been born after she had departed across the sea. Many said she had left due to the torment she had suffered at the hands of the orcs. However, this was not actually the case. Celebrian had actually left for a much more pressing reason; she had discovered Elrond's secret passion for a certain lady.

The lady in question was so terrified of Celebrian's balrog-like response to her 'relationship' with her husband, she had promptly vanished completely from existence, (although there were rumours that Celeborn had been spotted in the vacinity). In doing this she had solved a lot of problems, but also left one. There was a slight difficulty in that she had inconveniently left behind a two-week-old daughter. Elrond promptly insisted that he had nothing to do with her, after all, his hair was black, and her's was a very dark brown, she had sea grey eyes, where as his were simply grey. When he told his wife this, she had rather rudely in Elrond's opinion told him that the day pigs flew would be the day she believed him. Elrond had been slightly confused by this remark. He had been certain that he had in fact seen a flying pig in the great hall in Imladris one evening. It had been drinking the wine from his own dear wife's glass, whilst being on the ceiling at the same time. Quite how the pig had achieved this, the elf lord could not quite fathom. However, being the dutiful Lord of Imladris that he was, he sent the baby (who for the sake of argument he had named Idril) to live in Lorien with his dear mother in law, telling her that his wife had found another elf, had then run off to the grey havens with him, leaving behind an illegitimate daughter and a distressed and abandoned husband. Being the wise and sensible Queen that she was, Galadriel had not believed a word of it.

Meanwhile, Celebrian had galloped off to the grey havens to tell Cirdan to get a ship ready for her to leave by, had galloped back, shouted at her husband again as she told him to behave and look after the children, said goodbye to her children (all of which hadn't got a clue as to the cause of this manic behaviour) said a few other hasty farewells, and then galloped off to the grey havens singing a nauseous lament about a pair of star crossed elven lovers who died after they broke one anothers' hearts whilst singing mournful love songs.

Once his wife had left, Elrond was forced to tell the residents of Imladris a genuinely conceivable reason as to why their lady had left. On one of her many visits to see her dear parents she had been captured by orcs, and due to the grievous injuries that even he, the most learned and experienced healer of middle earth could not heal, had been forced to depart, lest she die of her wounds. Amidst the wailing, weeping, gnashing of teeth and general merriment, Glorfindel turned to the elf on his left and commented on how well the lady had looked when he had seen her set off for the grey havens a second time, so maybe their lord was not being terribly truthful. However, like all the elves around him, he had forgotten this by mid evening, as the departure of their lady seemed a good excuse for getting totally drunk. Because of this (as Elrond had cunningly planned) no one remembered how their Lord and Lady had failed to partake of lovingly passionate and emotional farewells, something elves of any species will always participate in.


	2. The Trials of the King

Chapter 1: A few years after the destruction of the ring

Aragorn and Arwen were sitting in the royal gardens of Minas Tirith bathing in what had to be one of the most glorious days they had ever shared together. The sun was shining and the birds were singing. Arwen had a sleeping Eldarion in her arms and was humming an elven lullaby in an attempt to keep him in the realms of dreams for as long as possible. Aragorn smiled at the lovely picture they made, trying not to remember the previous night, when Eldarion had kept them awake for so long he had begun to wonder at Eldarion's parentage, surely a half elf should not posses so much energy in the middle of the night. One of the songbirds that Legolas had brought fluttered over to Arwen and began to chirrup along to the song she was humming.

Suddenly a terrific crash tour through the slumbering city. Aragorn sighed. Gimli had evidently found another building that did not meet his high standards, and so had brought it crashing to the ground in the true dwarven fashion by digging underneath it. Hoping that Gimli had alerted the owners of the building to his dwarven dislike of it, the King rose and took the now bawling Eldarion out of his wife's arms. Arwen glared at her husband.

"Why in middle earth do you let that destructive maniac live here?" She asked with an expression that would have made Sauron himself cower in terror. Aragorn merely smiled, knowing that Arwen adored Gimli really (he had known this ever since he had caught her reading bedtime stories to him when the dwarf claimed to have a touch of 'flu).

"I suppose I could have a word with him" Aragorn responded dryly, trying very hard not to show his amusement. Ever since Gimli had taken over the re-building of Gondor's capital, there had been a steady stream of complaints moaning about the noise, the holes in the ground and the amount of rock needed that the Gimli needed to complete his projects.

"What he needs," a silky voice behind him said "Is a distraction. You need him to leave for a while, so someone can sort the damage out, but it will have to be something that he deems worthy of leaving for."

Arwen turned to see Legolas walking over to Aragorn and firmly place a hand over the howling infant's mouth with a "Please spare my ears you silly half elfling."

"But what can we do?" cried Arwen almost hysterically, "We've asked him politely, we've even ordered him to stop tearing up the city on a few occasions. I even gave him the exact location of a famous mithril mine, but it still wouldn't shift him! He fails to even notice me any more!" With that, the Queen of Gondor slumped into the arms of her husband who hastily dropped Eldarion into the arms of Legolas.

Patting his wife's head in an attempt to calm her down, Aragorn decided to ignore the obvious distress in his wife's voice about being ignored by the stumpy dwarf and calmly asked, "We have asked him to stop? I don't remember."

"You were probably too drunk your highness," Legolas said with an infuriating grin and a mock bow, "But I have thought long and hard about this. What we really need is something important, maybe a re union of some sort, away from here."

"But where?" Aragorn asked, still trying to calm a distressed Arwen who was now singing a hideous lament about broken hearts in an effort to cheer herself up. "Gimli is now a legendary figure of destruction. Who in their wildest dreams would even consider letting him anywhere near any property they deem valuable? He would destroy it! I mean, would you let him loose in Mirkwood?"

Legolas did not reply, as he was too busy trying to stop Eldarion pulling his blonde hair out in the distress that the destruction of the buildings had caused him.

"How about in Imladris?" Arwen suddenly chimed in, taking a break from singing and peering out at her son from the safety of her husband's arms. "Daddy would love to meet Eldarion, and he would love to have the visitors. You know he does darling, remember how pleased he was when we had the council? He told me he had looked forward to it for years!"

"I think he was being sarcastic love," Aragorn said gently, so as not to add to his wife's distress. He still had not forgotten how angry his father had been when Merry had "accidentally" trodden on a foot of a dwarf, changed the lock on a wine cellar and then had tried to blame Glorfindel.

"Don't be silly dear," Arwen said, untangling herself from her husband, and avoiding Legolas who was holding Eldarion out to her, "I've got it all worked out now." and not being one to take no for an answer, Arwen dashed off to write invitations to all the people she had ever met in her life at Imladris. Unfortunately, she had had a particularly long life in Imladris, which the invitation list would undoubtedly reflect.

"Legolas, are you sure that was a good idea? Father hates having lots of people and the thought of facing him after Gimli has torn down half of Imladris after deciding that it wasn't well built..." Aragorn flinched at the picture.

"Never mind, he wont be in Imladris for much longer, and anyway, if we keep our numbers down, and noise to a minimum, no one will notice, least of all Elrond, as he will no doubt be absorbed in some dusty, moth-eaten book." Legolas replied trying to sound convincing, promptly handing the father back his grumpy son.

Aragorn was about to point out that elves did notice this sort of thing, when another deafening roar rolled around the palace grounds.

Legolas winced, "Sounds like another noble has lost his house." he groaned. "I do hope you weren't trying to make any friends here Aragorn."

Gimli was having a very productive day. So far he had managed to pull down two fairly substantial buildings which, he said, stood in the way of the King's rule. Needless to say, the some hundred people working for him, were like-minded and so hung on his every word, even if it meant pulling the whole city to the ground and re building it, they would do it, for if not, their new King might not be able to rule as effectively as he would like.

"What really is a shame," Gimli commented to a passing builder "Is the total lack of caves. We could have built a lovely mine. Think how good that would be, think how stunning that would look. Actually," and here the dwarf began to get excited "You see that little patch of grass and what-not over there, we could dig up that and build our very own mine. Think how wonderful that would be!" Here the dwarf began to jump up and down, dancing around at the thought of a real mine to dig in.

As an afterthought, the builder suddenly commented "Master dwarf, isn't that the garden that Prince Legolas of the Mirkwood realm created for the arrival of the heir of Gondor?"

"So?" was Gimli's immediate reaction. "Digging is much more fun than picking flowers, and more profitable too, I might add."

"You're quite right you know." the builder had to agree, a mine wouldn't disturb the garden much, and anyway, it would grow back. "Shall I go and tell the Prince that we would like to add a little something to his garden?"

"You don't need to," a slightly annoyed, but familiar voice said. "I can give you my answer now, and the answer is no. I did not spend the best part of a year creating a beautiful garden-"

"Patch of grass," Gimli put in,

"To have it ruined by some silly dwarf wanting to dig a cave." The elf did not look pleased. "Anyway, King Aragorn wants to see you."

"If he wants me to look after that silly elfling…" Gimli began

"He doesn't," Legolas cut in. "I think it's more a case of him wanting you to do some little favour for the Queen. She needs to contact a few dozen dwarves. You see, she'd planning a sort of re-union in Imladris."

"Then why does Aragorn want to see me?"

"He doesn't want you to give her the information, mainly because Aragorn fears his father's wrath if the dwarves grace Imladris with their presence."

"If there's going to be that wine there then yes, I will do as the Queen asks" Gimli said, with an air of great nobility and self sacrifice.

"I didn't think that the dwarves liked the delicate elven wines," Legolas commented, remembering how Gimli had complained loudly to the entire hall of Imladris that the wine was pathetically watery.

"I don't" Gimli quickly put in, lest Legolas or the builder should think less of him, "It's watching the light-weighted elves go under the table after two glasses of it that I like." And with that, the stumpy dwarf ambled off to see the Queen.

Legolas rolled his eyes skyward. "This is _not _my idea Elrond, so please don't blame me for anything."


	3. The Makings of Madness

Chapter 2 Somewhere in Imladris

Elladan was bored. After the one ring had been destroyed, there had been no one left to fight whom was worth fighting. Sauron was gone forever, the elves were now at peace with men (which although being sensible, was very dull) and his father had strictly forbidden the pleasure of irritating the dwarves by sending them fake maps indicating the whereabouts of mithril mines. His dear brother Elrohir was currently trying to convince some silly blonde maiden that she was in love with him.

"Where is Aragorn when you need him?" he asked the nearest statue. He and Aragorn had been well known for the pranks they had pulled on just about every elf in Imladris, including visitors such as the Lady Galadriel and Lord Cirdan. Thinking that he might go and find some pretty maiden to watch bathing (Imladris was suffering from a heat wave, and being the elf that he was, Elladan knew all the favourite bathing spots along the river) he wandered down one of the winding paths towards the water, guided by the murmurs and laughter which indicated the whereabouts of scantily clad maidens.

Slinking through the gardens on his way to the river, Elladan, using all the ranger skills that Aragorn had taught him, managed to only collide with four elves (an improvement on yesterday's six) fall into just three streams and tred on just one irate father. The latter of which seemed to be heading back to his study whilst muttering something about a damned hobbit that was currently eating Imladris into a famine, as well as writing books criticising aspects of the fairer race.

Just before he got to the ford, Elladan saw a rider wearing the tree of Gondor on his tunic riding towards the main buildings. Hoping that it would be news of his brother and sister, and thus a diversion to the boredom he was currently suffering from, he went out to meet the messenger. Most of Imladris was eager to hear from them, as no news had been heard from their dear Princess and not-so-dear Ranger for what seemed like months. Much to Elladan's annoyance, the rider asked some other elf for the whereabouts of Master Elrond.

Elladan could not be bothered to find his father, as it really was too hot. If he took the message to his father then he would not find out its content for several days (Elrond was a little paranoid about letters, ever since Galadriel had become his mother in law he always assumed that any correspondence contained hidden meaning; one time he had deciphered a message from Gandalf saying that he, Lord of Imladris, Keeper of Vilya was in fact inferior to a hobbit in sense and situation. This had irritated Elrond, and had confirmed to Celebrian that her husband had an overactive imagination).

Suddenly thinking of a way to combat this, Elladan assuming a grand air, strode out from the bush he had been sitting in and proudly announced that he was Elrond. Glorfindel, (who had just been asked as to the location of his Lord) bowed low to Elladan, knowing he was up to something that could be amusing. After all, life had become a little dull recently, as Elrond had put another lock on his wine cellar. The messenger bowed and, trying not to stare too hard at the leaves in 'Elrond's' hair, took a message tube from his belt and announced that he was from King Aragorn.

Smiling sweetly, and saying something in elvish, which added to the overall dramatic effect beautifully, Elladan took the message and sent the rider to the stables, where he would be given lodging for the night.

When out of earshot, Glorfindel turned to Elladan and asked, "An explanation as to the reasoning of this delightful venture? I am most intrigued to know why you would ever wish to be your father."

Giving Glorfindel one of his father's 'I Am The Lord Of Imladris Fear Me' look Elladan stuck his nose in the air and began to swagger off in the direction of the grand halls of Imladris, trying to avoid the prying eyes of the elves who suddenly seemed very interested in Aragorn's affairs.

Elladan sat down in his chambers and smiled with smug satisfaction. This was exactly what he needed. His silly little sister Arwen wanted to have a re-union in Imladris simply to get a dwarf out of her hair. Deciding that his beloved father did not need to know of the proposed gathering, as his father was really very stressed at the moment, Elladan re-wrote the letter and carefully elaborated the parts that were fit for his father to read, and omitted the rest.

Once he had finished this rather tedious task (letter writing was Elrohir's vocation in life, not his), Elladan was about to go to his father when a knock resounded on the door. Without waiting for an answer, Glorfindel walked in.

"Elladan, may I ask why you have spent the last hour inside, instead of chasing the maidens?" Glorfindel asked trying very hard to sound innocent.

Elladan simply handed the letter from Gondor to Glorfindel, who promptly burst into fits of laughter.

"Don't tell Elrond whatever you do," Glorfindel said, wiping his eyes. "Arwen may be her father's favourite daughter-"

"Only daughter," corrected Elladan,

"Whatever," Glorfindel could not help but smirk at this. "But I think even she is going a bit far. Gimil in Imladris again? Is she crazy? What will Elrond think? And what will Elrond do when he reads this letter, as by now word will have reached him that a message from Gondor has arrived."

Elladan smiled happily. For once he was one step ahead of Glorfindel. "I don't intend to let Ada read it, as you can see, I have re-written the letter, making it suitable for the father to read!" Elladan smugly handed the re-written letter to Glorfindel.

"Perfect," A delighted Glorfindel replied, "Though your handwriting isn't as neat as Arwen's, and it isn't as long a letter, but apart from that, it's fine."

"In that case, I shall go and give this letter to my dear father. Do you think he will notice that there isn't a seal on it?"

Elladan happily went down to his father's study, trying hard not to act like an immature elfling. Although it wasn't easy, he managed to arrive after having been given only a few strange looks from passing elves that had not seen him receive a message from some man from Gondor. Those who had seen him simply shook their heads and smiled, thinking that their dear princess was probably a mother at last and their not-so-dear Ranger who had stolen their Princess was possibly a father.

Elladan carelessly banged on the door of his father's study and pranced in to find a young she-elf whom he knew to be Idril sitting across from Elrond and speaking in a very affectionate voice. His father did not seem bothered or surprised by his entrance, he simply asked him what in middle earth did he think he was doing.

"You're a grand-father!" Elladan exclaimed skipping excitedly over to his father and handing him the letter he had just re-written, failing to notice that some of the scrawled writing was smudged.

"Your behaviour is like that of an elfling." Idril commented gently "Isn't it sweet the way such old boys act so silly when babies are around?" she asked, addressing no-one in particular, and trying not to stare at the ink spatters on Elladan's face.

"Just make sure this broodiness doesn't rub off on Elrohir." Elladan said winking at Idril, "Or he'll be wanting his own soon."

"I'm sure there's no danger of that," Idril said smiling sweetly "After all, he's currently single isn't he?"

Rolling his eyes skyward in much the same way that Legolas had done a few weeks before, Elladan turned to his father.

"Aragorn needs to teach his heralds how to write in such a manner that other people can read what has been written." Elrond said, trying vainly to read what had been scrawled a few minutes before.

"Oh let me read it then" Elladan was getting impatient, and it would not do to let Elrond stare too long at the letter. Bouncing over to Elrond in a manner that would have done credit to a rabbit, Elladan snatched the parchment from his father and read aloud: "To my dearest father and brothers, from Gondor, greetings. It is with great pleasure that I write informing you of the birth of Aragorn and my first son, which we have named Eldarion. Apart from that there is nothing else worth telling you. Hope to see you all soon, otherwise we will never meet again, love Arwen and Aragorn." Elladan smiled proudly, hoping his father wouldn't notice that he had got bored half way through in the re-writing process.

Elrond looked at his son with one raised eyebrow. "You seem very pleased about this

Elladan, is there something you haven't told us?"

Elladan tried very hard not to look guilty and then said, "You don't seem very pleased at all ada."

"How dare you suggest such a thing! Nothing could have pleased me more, I am just a little surprised it happened so soon, after all, your mother and I had been married for years before we had you."

Thankful that the topic of conversation had altered, Elladan sweetly asked, "Will you tell the rest of Imladris tonight then ada?"

"If you haven't already told them," put it Idril.

"I suppose I should, but I want to reply to this badly written message first. Maybe I should suggest they learn how to write in the south,"

Elladan sighed. His dear father had always been such a perfectionist when it came to letter writing.

"And," Elrond said, as Elladan was about to walk out the room "They didn't seal it with the crest of Gondor."

Elladan blushed slightly. His hand was on the door when an angry snarl came from Elrond, who was trying again to read the letter.

"They insult me yet again!" Elrond spat, but before he could continue Idril arose.

Sighing somewhat at the stupidity of the males that inhabited the earth, Idril walked over to Elrond. "My Lord," She said putting a hand on Elrond's arm, "Such a letter as this could hardly be written in code, I mean, we're not exactly in the middle of a war are we?"

Elrond looked somewhat put out.

Elladan grinned. "We may be soon," he thought.


	4. March Wardens and Heatwaves

Chapter 3 –Lothlorien

Galadriel wandered in the beautiful peace of her realm. Nothing was better than a clam summers day, with cool trees to sit under, cool streams to swim in and what added to the atmosphere more than the courting antics of the elves? Nothing clouded the Lady's mind this day as she glided through the glades, her mirror had shown her nothing but joyous events, the birth of her great grand son (or so she hoped) and the re union of her and her daughter Celebrian, which would surely take place in just a few years time.

Curiously enough, a reunion of sorts was not nearly so far away.

Haldir was supposed to be keeping watch on the borders of the woodland realm, but of late he had become incredibly bored of this task, as there hadn't been any orc sightings for months on end. Instead he had taken to spying on maidens, irritating his brothers, and also annoying Celeborn by teasing him about Idril (who the local grapevine said was Celeborns illegitimate daughter from an unknown source). Celeborn had the patience of an angel, and had born it all fairly well until Haldir had 'accidentally' asked him how his daughter Idril was in front of Galadriel. Neither the Lord of Lady were pleased.

Lazily climbing into a tree, Haldir spotted a pair of elf maidens walking down a path, looking as though they were about to go for a swim. Telling himself that it would be wrong to miss such an opportunity to annoy the Lady of the wood by annoying the maidens of the wood, Haldir scurried along the branches of the tree he was in, trying to find and optimum branch for his cunning plan.

The sudden burst of energy overheated the poor elf, and he was forced to remove his tunic to prevent himself from dying of dehydration. Without thinking, he dropped the garment to the ground only to find that he had dropped it on a surprised maiden. Smiling sweetly at the shocked and scantily clad maiden, he jumped off the branch and landed elegantly in the nearest stream, drenching five elves, three of which had up until then gone unnoticed by Haldir.

"HALDIR! _How could you do this to me?_" shrieked one of the inadequately clad elf maidens. The other three elves looked on in a most disapproving way. It was then that Haldir realised who the other three actually were. Celeborn, trying to maintain his dignity, (which had suffered a severe blow after having been found watching these maidens) scowled at Haldir and walked away, leading another 'elf' who Haldir suddenly realised to be Gandalf (or as Elladan would say, a newly washed and not so grey Gandalf). Galadriel assumed her God-like composture and swept wordlessly away, trying very hard not to look too closely at the half-naked elf who was currently sitting in one of her streams.

Haldir gave the two remaining maidens a cheerful grin. "I merely saw you going for a dip, and thought that I'd join you. After all, would you not do the same if you were in my position?"

"I certainly would." a voice said, as a black-haired figure emerged from the surrounding mallorn trees.

With another shriek the two scantily clad she-elves dashed off into the wood, lest there be any more spying men around.

Haldir turned to greet the newcomer. "I found the borders unguarded Haldir. I thought that guarding them was your job?"

Flashing a dazzling smile Haldir replied in a voice dripping with sarcasm "Oh no my dear Elladan, since the downfall of Sauron, we have had made peace with the orcs, so they are no longer shot when they arrive. Instead the Lady takes tea with them."

"Speaking of which I actually have a message for her. Would you do me the honour of escorting me to her?" Elladan asked as politely as he could, trying not to dissolve it fits of giggles at the sight of Haldir in a stream with maidens running away from him.

Groaning at the prospect of seeing his Lady again so soon, Haldir got out of the stream and looked around for his tunic.

"Why in middle earth do you keep that blonde elf here?" Celeborn asked his wife, trying not to get too annoyed but failing supremely. "We have had more complaints about him than any other elves put together. Did you not hear last week; he had the nerve to ask some poor unsuspecting traveller if they wanted to meet us they would have to find me a suitable maiden first? Do you want me to loose all the dignity I have ever had?" Celeborn continued to rant until his wife calmly placed a hand over his mouth as though he was a small elfling.

"My dear Lord, he is merely bored. He has had no orcs to kill for nearly two years. You can hardly blame him really." Gandalf said, trying to calm Celeborn down whilst trying hard not to let him notice that he thoroughly approved of Haldir's antics.

"What he needs." a broody Galadriel put in, whilst letting go of her husband, "Is a distraction. Maybe if we _could_ find him a nice maiden he would start to behave."

"What maiden in this world will even consider marrying him? Even a dwarf-"

"Thank you for your concern my Lord," a half naked Haldir said dropping down from a nearby tree, closely followed by Elladan, "But I really think that you are thinking along the wrong lines. Elladan here has got a much better idea." Shaking himself like a dog, Haldir managed to shower the four others with stream water.

Elladan bowed low. "My dear Lord and Lady," he began, without looking either Celeborn or Galadriel in the eye, "A most blissful event has happened. My dearest sister, Queen Arwen and her husband King Aragorn have just had their first child, which they have named Eldarion. To celebrate this joyous event, a celebration is going to take place in Imladris very soon."

Gandalf noticed the twinkle in Elladan's eye, and could not help but wonder if there was more to this than what he had said.

Galadriel and Celeborn however, were far to wrapped up in the idea of being great-grand parents to notice Elladan's odd behaviour.

"So tell me Elladan," Gandalf said as he walked back with Elladan to find Elladan's horse that he had left grazing in one of the royal gardens, "What exactly is going on?"

Without hesitation, Elladan told him. "Arwen thought it might be fun if we invited a few hobbits as well, and seeing as you get on fairly well with them I thought perhaps you could assist with this matter."

"Say no more Prince of Imladris," Gandalf said bowing, "It shall be done to the last detail. How about I make a few fireworks to liven things up?"

"I will leave that to you, good wizard. Tell me, do you think the Mirkwood clan would like to join us in this little celebration?"

"The more the merrier. Shall I bring a few ents? It would prove to be a distraction for them as well."

"Why do they need a distraction? Have they not tried spying on the entwives?"

"Alas that there are none in these parts. Nay my silly friend, the ents still lust after Saruman's blood, even though he is long dead, they do not want to accept it. They are convinced that he has transformed himself into some small animal that thus cannot be found. Treebeard himself has said that I must put fourth all my power in order to find this dreadful shape-shifter."

"Finally cracked has he?"

"The term used is, I believe, crack-branched. But yes, he has."

Elladan rolled his eyes skyward, hoping that the entwives would soon be found.


	5. Intellectual Elves

Chapter 4 –once again in Imladris

Ever since they had been able to walk Elladan and Elrohir had met in a secret little cave behind a waterfall whenever they had something particularly rebellious to discuss. Today was no exception. On his return to Imladris, Elladan had found his brother searching high and low for the key to his father's wine cellar. Alas, the world seemed to be against them, for Elrohir had not succeeded in this quest, nor had he found anyone else prepared to incur his father's wrath in assisting him. It was with great sadness that he abandoned his search and had joined his brother in trying to work out what to do next.

"So let us go over our achievements so far brother," Elladan began. "We have alerted most of Imladris to the idea of a dwarf being here in a month or so,"

"Except father," Elrohir put in, "If he found out, we probably would not be alive."

"The Lord and Lady of the Golden wood will also be coming. They promised to bring as many elves as possible. Gandalf said he'd bring a few friends as well, and knowing him, it could be a couple of thousand ents. The Mirkwood tribe promised not to bring spiders, but they will be bringing wine. Aragorn and Arwen insisted on bringing Eldarion and a few loyal but light weighted servants. That way we can keep their alcoholic consumption to a minimum. I said they could on the condition that they brought as much alcohol as possible."

"Sounds like a good plan. The wine they make in Gondor is brilliant for getting drunk on. However, there are still a few things missing. We don't have any hobbits, and one dwarf isn't enough."

"What do you suggest then?" Elladan looked slightly confused, surely his brother did not want Imladris destroyed totally. As the sun was shining, dancing off the water, it almost felt wrong to be inviting such devastation to so fair a realm.

"What are you two playing at?" a soft feminine voice asked coyly, knowing perfectly well what was they were doing.

"Idril? What are you doing here? Trying to flirt with Elladan again?" Elrohir said, playfully shoving his brother in the direction of the waterfall.

Idril grimaced. "Why would anyone flirt with their brothers?"

This statement shocked the twins to the bones. Their father had never said anything about them having another sister.

Elladan recovered first. "Does this mean that there was something that our parents haven't told us?" he asked the nearest tree, trying to work out what on earth this meant.

"Indeed yes," Idril replied, seeing as the tree didn't seem very responsive, "I happen to be the reason your mother left. Or at least part of it."

"Our mother?" a naïve Elrohir asked, "Surely she was your's as well, I mean, if you're really our sister-"

"Well half-sister to be precise. Your naughty father caught the eye of my mother, and I am the result." Idril said without a hint of shame.

"Why didn't father tell us though?" Elladan asked. "I mean, it would have been nice to know. Now that Arwen's left we've been very lonely. Ada doesn't play much with us anymore. He says we're too old."

Idril grinned. "You are. And, to be truthful, I am not meant to know either. I just happened to read his diary, which had the whole story in it." Idril put her head on one side and a far away expression settled on her face. Almost as though she'd been thinking long and hard she then said; "For a respected Elf Lord, he does get up to some pretty dreadful stuff."

Elladan and Elrohir's faces cracked into identical grins. "Where does he keep this record of dreadful deeds?"

"I'll tell you, as long as you promise to invite a few more people," Idril put on her manipulative smile, something her mother had unwittingly passed on, "And I want to meet Legolas. Galadriel said he was very handsome."

Elrond prided himself in the fact that no one except his wife knew of his illegitimate daughter. He knew his wife would forgive him for it, after all, Idril was very sweet, thanks to his mother-in-law's attentions over the years, so no one could really hold anything against her. Or her father, surely. Thinking of his wife made the Elf Lord a little unhappy. He had not seen her for what seemed like thousands of years, and although being a little old fashioned in some of her principles, she had been a very good companion.

"Maybe it is time to leave this fair land and sail across the sea," Elrond muttered to himself. "At any rate, by doing so I would be spared of having to see Arwen's baby. Doubtless if I stay much longer she and Aragorn will come here and ask me to babysit until the child is of a respectable age. If it's anything like what they were like when they were small I do not want to have anything to do with it."

"Sorry my Lord?" Glorfindel had swept in silently, and so had gone unnoticed by the Lord of Imladris. "Did you say you wanted to see Aragorn and Arwen's new baby?"

"Quite the opposite, my dear Glorfindel." Elrond replied with a sigh. "Babies are the one thing I loathe with all my elven heart." Elrond reached for his glass with a slight grimace. It seemed that even his people's apple brandy could not raise his spirits enough to enjoy the prospect of being a grandfather.

"_So_ sorry to hear that my Lord," Glorfindel thought to himself. "You'd run to the Grey Havens right away if you knew what we had in store for you." Stifling a smile Glorfindel tried to remember why he was there.

"Did you need something Glorfindel?" Elrond asked, annoyed at having his peace shattered.

An idea suddenly occurred to Glorfindel to get Elrond out of the way for a few weeks. "My Lord, don't you think it's about time we left middle earth? I mean, the ring is destroyed, I'm getting a little tired of this place, and if you don't want to see your grandson," Glorfindel smiled slyly.

"Just what I was thinking myself," Elrond said without looking at the blonde elf. "Maybe I should send a messenger to the Grey Havens soon." Standing up and wandering out to the balcony which commanded a stunning view of the valley, Elrond began to think the possibility of leaving perhaps could not come soon enough.

"I have a better idea my Lord," Glorfindel said with a perfectly straight face. "Why don't you pop off to the grey havens, see master Cirdan –I'm sure he must be longing to hear from you after all these years– and I'll sort things out here. Would that not be a good plan?"

Elrond turned back to his councillor and cocked his head on one side ("That's where she gets it from" Glorfindel thought, "Idril really does take after him, not that I know anything about her being his daughter, of course, but he does leave his diary in some fairly silly places.")

"Are you plotting something Glorfindel? I cannot help but wonder at your motive. Last time you sent me away I got back to find Arwen in love with Aragorn."

Glorfindel laughed. "My good sir, there is no danger of that now. Anyway, I had nothing to do with it." Giving his Lord a dazzling smile, Glorfindel silently prayed Elrond would comply. If he didn't then the blonde elf knew he would be balrog meat.

"Alright then. But I want you to take special care of everything whilst I'm away. I will even draw up a list of things you have to do each day, to make sure, my silly blonde haired friend, that you don't forget anything." Elrond paused then thought to himself, "and I'm taking the key to my wine cellar, or maybe I should just take the contents."

Restraining himself from hitting his Lord for calling him a silly blonde, Glorfindel bowed low and promised Elrond he would do exactly as he was told. Mentally he added, "I will also do as your sons instruct. Doubtless they will have a few thoughts on the running of Imladris whilst you are away."


	6. Hobbit Tales

Chapter 5

After three weeks of hard riding, Gandalf finally reached the borders of the shire. Cursing in about five different tongues about how irritatingly large the world was, Gandalf made his way to Hobbiton, in search of the insane, furry footed hobbits some of which had been quite useful to him in previous years. Shadofax had not been pleased about taking his master to somewhere as lowly as the Shire, and was desperately looking for an opportunity to get revenge on his rider. It was bad enough having to meet the little shrimp Gandalf had made him carry a few years ago again.

As Gandalf approached Bag End, he saw to his astonishment, a small hobbit trying to climb a rather small tree. The tree itself had to be a mallorn tree –evidently Sam had used the Lady's gift –but it did not look strong enough to hold a small hobbit child for very long. Deciding that it would do wonders for his reputation in the Shire if he helped that silly hobbit out of the tree, Gandalf nobly rode over to her and reached across to catch the hobbit child.

Shadofax would not tolerate anymore of this. Having to see hobbits was one thing, but carrying them was quite another, especially if they were this small. With a loud roar, he succeeded in throwing both wizard and hobbit off his back and into the bushes that were nearby. Without turning a hair, Gandalf sent a spark of light straight to his mount's rump. Most of Hobbiton had earache for the rest of the day.

Half an hour later, Gandalf thankfully turned a grumpy Elanor over to her parents. Sam spent the next hour quickly trying to think of something that would take Gandalf's mind off the screaming Elanor. Rosie however, thought very differently on the matter. For a small furry-footed peaceful hobbit, it was curious how much she resembled a balrog. It did not take Gandalf long to decided that he would rather face another journey through orc and balrog infested Moria than try and help a silly hobbit again.

Wishing that there were a bridge that he could break between he and Rosie, Gandalf took out his pipe and began to light up. Rosie was not pleased. It seemed that she had banned smoking in her house on account of it leaving piles of ash around as well as burning holes in the hearth rug.

Frodo, wondering what all the fuss was about, walked into his beloved hobbit hole to find an angry Rosie (which was not a particularly new sight) and a Gandalf who appeared to be shaking, whether it was with laughter or fear, Frodo couldn't tell.

"-_and if I ever see you anywhere near my Elanor again, I will be so_-" Rosie stopped to see Frodo in the door.

Gandalf quickly got up, glad of the distraction, to greet his old friend. Without hesitation, Rosie shot a murderous glance at Gandalf and swept out of the room.

"Well Frodo my lad," the ancient wizard said, trying to hide his emotions, "How are you these days? Are the Gamgees taking good care of you?"

Frodo simply nodded, trying not to look too surprised at the state of his hall. Rosie had evidently unleashed her anger by throwing things at Gandalf; not that any seemed to have hit him.

At this point Elanor threw herself out of her father's arms and made a wild grab for Frodo, who quickly dissappeared into the sitting room before Elanor could attach herself to him. Following them, Gandalf found himself in the comfortable jumble of Bag End. It had hardly changed since he had last been there, though a few things of Elanor's had been added. Sitting himself in the largest chair, (which actually happened to be the one Rosie and Elanor usually sat in) Gandalf once again resumed the delights of lighting his pipe. Thinking he might win the small hobbit's favour, he began blowing smoke butterflies around the sitting room.

Frodo gave a small sigh as Elanor stopped using him as a climbing frame and began chasing the smoke illusions around the room. Rosie came back in and quickly scooped Elanor up, muttering darkly about how Gandalf would bewitch her with some foul evil craft.

Sam came in again to find a very tense situation. When all said and done, he was not very clever with words, so he decided to keep quiet, unless his wife (who was acting like a fierce dragon) decided to attack again.

"Frodo, hold Elanor for me whilst I go and get drinks for our _guest._" she said giving another foul look at Gandalf.

Gandalf however had recovered from his previous berating, and was thinking of new ways to annoy his hostess. Winking at her in what he thought was a saucy sort of way, he smacked her on the bottom and asked if she had any dwarven ale to hand. If looks could kill, Gandalf would have suffered a long slow death.

At this remark, Sam blushed scarlet, Frodo collapsed into fits of laughter and Gandalf, having regained the reputation he wanted, poked Elanor in the ribs which made her resume her ear splitting squeals of what Sam hoped was delight. Rosie, deciding she had lost, stalked out the room, only to find Merry and Pippin were in her way, both of which had heard the last remark from Gandalf. Trying hard to maintain dignity, Rosie pushed straight past them and went into the kitchen.

After several rounds of ale, Frodo plucked up the courage to ask Gandalf why he was actually here. Closing his eyes and praying that he was not expected to take another ring to Mordor, he gritted his teeth and waited for the reply.

"It's quite alright Frodo," Gandalf said, seeing the reaction on the hobbit's face. "I come here announcing the arrival of the heir to the throne of Gondor. Aragorn and Arwen are now parents, and so, we have decided to hold a little celebration at Imladris, and we felt the party would not be complete without our heroic ring-bearer."

Rosie, who went broody at the mere mention of a baby, suddenly seemed to forgive Gandalf and started asking all the silly questions women (of any race) ask when they are feeling particularly motherly.

"Alas, my dear Rosie," Gandalf managed to say after Rosie had finished jumping around, "I myself have not met little Eldarion, which is why we are all invited to Imladris to see for ourselves."

"Are we invited too?" Merry asked with a wicked gleam in his eye, "Or do we have to be tied up in a sack-"

"No you silly Brandybuck," Gandalf said with a sigh, hoping that Elladan knew what he was taking on when he asked for all the hobbits to be invited, "For some unknown reason, you and your silly friend have been invited too."

From outside, a sudden scream was heard. Gandalf closed his eyes, correctly assuming that Shadowfax had also heard the invitation and was once again furious at the prospect of carrying hobbits again. Rosie got up, and with a withering look at him, went outside, hoping to find something more serious than plates she could attack the wizard with.

There she found her tiny daughter happily playing with Shadowfax's mane. Apparently, the two had resolved their differences and were now happily enjoying each other's company. Wondering why the stallion had screamed, Rosie decided to sit and watch for a bit. After all, the men would doubtless want to catch up on their lewd tales without the presence of a female.

Shadowfax had happily allowed Elanor to climb onto his back so she could 'plait' the lowest bit of his mane. Deciding not to try any tricks when the missus hobbit was there –Shadowfax had heard her bellowing at his master, and although being male he was not so totally stupid to invoke this hobbit's wrath– he ignored urge to gallop off to the fields of Rohan, and instead tried to decide which of the hobbit holes looked the cosiest to curl up next to.

"Sho let me get thish shtraight Gandalf," Frodo said, trying very hard not to slur too many words. "You are ashking ush to go to Imladrish for a shilly party, jusht to annoy Elwond."

"That's about right," Gandalf said, smiling round at the wasted hobbits. "But Elrond doesn't know, and he isn't allowed to know either." And with a quick glare at Merry and Pippin he added, "Ask anyone else you like to join us, but Elrond is _not_ allowed to know."

"You meansh," Merry said, trying to remain upright "Itsh meant to be a shurrpisesh?"

"I think _surprise_ is a better pronunciation, but yes, that is the idea." Gandalf's eyes twinkled at the thought of these insane hobbits getting this drunk in the presence of one of the most respectable Elf Lords east of the sea. Although, if Bilbo's book had been completed that reputation was about to take a serious blow.

"Then doesh that mean we ish allowed to bring our own drink?" Merry quickly put in, frightened that he would be subjected to the delicate elven wines again.

"I should think so," Gandalf replied, trying to stop himself roaring with laughter as Pippin neatly tripped over the hearth rug and landed face down in the empty fireplace, successfully covering himself in ash.

"In that cashe, we had better get going, maybe the misshhush, er, Roshie will help ush short things out." Sam tried very hard not to slur, knowing his wife would be furious if she found him under the influence of ale. As an afterthought, he asked, "Ish she allowed to come too Mr Gandalf?"

"Yes she must," Gandalf quickly replied. "She and Arwen can baby sit."

"Isn't that to be Lord Elwond's job?" Sam asked, having gained some sort of control.

Gandalf merely smiled. "Surely you wouldn't begrudge and ancient decrepit elf some fun now, would you?"

"The simple question is," Merry said a few hours later to his still drunk friend Pippin, "Are there going to be enough dwarves around to keep things lively long enough for us to try out the last of the fireworks we 'borrowed' from Gandalf at Bilbo's party."

"Why do we neeeed the dwarvesh? Why do they need to come to? They drink too mush." Pippin protested feebly.

Merry decided this was a good time for his friend to sober up, so he forced Pippin's head into the nearest pond, which just so happened to be a Proudfoot's fishpond.

After they had escaped the tirade of annoyed Proudfoots, Pippin repeated the question.

"You really are dumb Pip," Merry answered, rolling his eyes skyward. "If we have a load of dwarves, then they will spend all their time arguing with the elves, so neither elf nor dwarf will drink anything, leaving it all for us."

"And the fireworks? Whilst they are arguing, or when the silly elves have got headaches from shouting too much?"

Merry smiled. "Maybe we should ask Gandalf to make some more. That way we could try both times, and doubtless they will both happen more than once."


	7. Elven Logic

Chapter 6

Elrond had finally left for the Grey Havens. He had taken a very long time about leaving mainly because he had been resolved to take most of the contents of his wine cellar with him. However, due to his vast amount of cunningness, no one (except a few servants who didn't know of Elladan's plans and so therefore had no objection to alcohol leaving) had noticed. Elrond had been very proud of himself. It was at times like these, he thought to himself, that people really did see why he was the master of Imladris. Smiling very smugly, Elrond left Imladris singing about an Elf who had outwitted so many people, both dwarves _and_ men that eventually he had tried to outwit the Lady of the Golden Wood, which had not gone quite to plan in as much as Galadriel ended up growing more flowers in her garden due to an increase in flower-raising inclination of the soil.

Since his father's departure, Elladan had taken up residence in his father's vast study. Being Lord of Imladris, Elrond had insisted on having an enourmous study built for him, with the excuse that he would need to have very important meetings in it, (any meetings Elrond attended were held in a courtyard, or in one of the many halls) he needed the space so he could think clearly (Elrond rarely thought at all), and so that he would be able to make important decisions in peace (it was well known throughout the lands, that the only way to get Elrond to decided on something was to have an hour long argument about it in front of him, and he would then make the decision by seeing who would shout less louder if he displeased them). In conclusion, Elrond really did not need such a large study for any proper reason. The only _real_ reason he needed so large a one was that when his wife had wanted something of him, there were plenty of places to hide in it.

Elladan currently had his boots on his father's desk, and was trying very hard to work out when his brother Aragorn and his dear sister would arrive. He had tried looking at a map, only to find that he hadn't got the slightest idea how they worked, he had tried to remember going to Minas Tirith a few years back, only to remember that he had had the most awful headache on the way back due to the farewell feast the night before leaving and Arwen singing a farewell lament to them as they left. Elladan finally came up with a bright idea. Calling Lindir, (who claimed some responsibility for Elladan's appalling behaviour, his taste in wine and also knew precisely what was going on) he asked him to go and find someone in middle earth who could make maps work.

Glorfindel entered a few minutes later and bowed low, with a great flourish. Maintaining the straight face which was called upon for such solemn occassions he politely asked what his noble Lord required, as it was his father's wish that he serve the noble house of Elrond.

"I wanted to know when the King and Queen of Gondor are arriving." Elladan said peevishly. "They didn't say when they were going to arrive."

Rolling his eyes ceiling, Glorfindel walked over to Elrond's desk and kicked Elladan's feet off it. After rescuing Elrond's cat which had managed to find a sleeping place in one of drawers of the desk, throwing a heap of what were sometimes classed as "Vital documents" on the fire and accidentally dropping an inkwell on the latest in a series of reports which detailed how Imladris should be run, Glorfindel found the letters he had obviously left for Elladan to find earlier. Picking up a bundle of replies from the insane invitations Glorfindel said; "You evidently didn't notice that I brought these in earlier. One I believe is from Gondor. I had to keep all messengers away from here whilst Elrond was faffing around, I almost thought he suspected something the way he nearly refused to leave. Anyway, to cut a long story short, I have collected all the replies so far sent here." And after that long speech, the elf Lord seemingly exhausted flopped into the nearest chair and reached for the nearest decanter of wine.

"And I meant to read them all?" Elladan groaned. "Elrohir's the reader. I don't go in for that sort of thing."

"I'm sure he would love to read them," A voice said from behind Glorfindel, "though I am not going to do any counting of numbers. That's what Erestor is for." Elrohir had silently walked in carrying another bundle of letters. He too had been diverting the invitation replies, but unlike Glorfindel, he had pretended to be Elrond, which had allowed him to practice wearing his father's superior expression. It had worked on some, but Gandalf had not been convinced. The wizard had made it very clear that until Elrohir had eyebrows that could reach his hairline he was never going to fool anyone.

Elladan groaned. "Find the half witted Erestor then."

_Four hours later_

They had, between themselves, managed to count the total number of elves, dwarfs, men, wizards, hobbits and random animals which were expected in Imladris. This was a great achievement and had been celebrated in true elven style with numerous goblets of wine.

"So let me get this straight," Bilbo said, after walking into Elrond's study in the hope of finding some silly poem to learn in Elrond's absence only to find that the elves in it needed some guidance. "In a few weeks time,"

"Days time," corrected Glorfindel, whose eyes were sparkling.

"In a few days time, there is going to be, over three hundred more elves here, one hundred odd dwarves,"

"Courtesy of Merry and Pippin, I believe." Idril added, who had also joined them.

"At least two hundred men, maybe more if the King of the Mark brings his extended family as well, and knowing Arwen, which although I don't very much, I think I know her well enough to be fairly sure that she will indeed bring them too."

"Great," Elladan said, getting up from his leisurely position on the couch treading on the cat which had taken up residence in front of a large fire. The cat that was used to a very quiet placid existence gave a loud cry of annoyance, sank its teeth into Elladan's arm and went to sit on the mantelpiece where it eyed the elf warily. Despite the heat elves have a great love of fire and are not always too careful about what they put on it, especially when they have cause to be annoyed, something the cat had witnessed in that very room many a time. "The only problem is, are we going to have enough in the way of alcoholic beverages to keep this lot happy? I mean, if we have that many dwarves, they will drink us dry within a couple of hours." Elladan, suddenly a little worried and with a sore arm, slouched onto the couch in a manner that was most distressing for the onlookers.

Glorfindel could not but help to give a sad sigh. Idril rose from her position at her father's desk (she had been doing all the work) and with a small groan of annoyance she hit the nearest of her brothers around the head with a large book that happened to come to hand.

"Can't you two read? I know the other two are blonde, but being blessed with dark hair, my dear brothers, surely even you will be able to decipher that everyone has agreed to bring a little refreshment with them."

Elrohir, having suffered a severe blow to the head, did not try and reply. Instead he went to the nearest of his father's medical cabinets to make up a compress before an ugly bruise appeared on his forehead.

Elladan shot his half-sister a dazzling smile. "Of course we can sister dearest, it's just that we know you enjoy doing all the work." He promptly had to duck as a blow when the same book was aimed at him, missed, hit the cat which proceeded to renew its acquaintance with Elladan's arm.

Looking up from the floor, Erestor eyed the two with interest. "Which one of you two is going to take the blame for this, just out of interest?"

Idril looked down at the sprawled out Erestor with an expression of deep disgust written on her face. "I personally think it's Arwen's fault. She invited everyone."

"But it was Legolas' idea." Elladan pointed out, who was still vainly trying to remove the cat's teeth from his father's mangled robe.

"Only because Gimli was tearing up Gondor." Glorfindel said hastily.

"He was only doing his bit," Bilbo said defensively, trying to write everything down at the same time, "After all, we cannot have a badly built building standing in the way of the King's reign now, can we?"

"Then maybe it was Elrond's fault for letting Aragorn become King in the first place." Erestor said with an air of deep annoyance. "I would have made a much better king anyway."

"Stupid elf," Idril said, reaching for the book again, "Would you really want to rule a load of squabbling humans?"

"Maybe it was ada's fault for having Arwen," Elrohir suggested. "After all, if he hadn't have had her, then we wouldn't have an Eldarion to have a celebration for."

"I didn't think we were having a celebration for Eldarion," Elladan said, thoroughly confused and still fighting with a now furious cat which apparently did not like being held upside down by the tail. "I thought it was simply to annoy ada."

"The simple fact is, dear brother," Idril said with a great sense of wisdom and authority, calmly removing the cat from her brother's grasp and dropping it out the nearest window, "Is that we are having a celebration here, and it is ALL ada's fault. No more questions need to be asked. Right?"


	8. Many Meetings

Chapter 7

King Aragorn of Gondor was now very well known in his lands, even though he had only been ruler for a few years. Not only that, but he was loved and respected by all his people. At his side, he had the support of a beautiful and loving wife, whose gentleness, kindness and wisdom was legendary to both humans and elves. Moreover, she had also just borne the heir to the throne. Needless to say, their journey through Gondor was therefore something of an event.

At the head of the procession, a herald rode, constantly shouting that the King and Queen and Prince Legolas and Gimli and the Steward and his wife and a long list of others were approaching. When a suitable size crowd had gathered, the next part of the procession would follow. This consisted of a few lesser nobles, and a few dozen guards who had the vital role of keeping order and pretending to be enthusiastic citizens if there were not enough to greet the king. Next, there came the covered wagons (in which it was said that the King had ordered half his royal fortune had been placed, as he was going to bribe the elves to make alliances with Gondor) which were guarded by a large number of the King's personal guard. Following close behind came King Aragorn himself, his wife riding beside him, with the young prince in her arms. Next to her rode Legolas, and behind him rode the dwarf Gimli. Gimli had been looking slightly off colour ever since the journey had started, but as Legolas had said, it did stop him pulling down buildings. Faramir and his wife rode behind them, throwing soppy looks at each other when they thought no one was watching. Behind the steward, a host of the King's court followed. Bringing up the rear, there was a single rider, usually asleep who was supposed to be acting as a back guard.

And so this curious procession had ridden through Gondor and on to Rohan. They had halted briefly at the Golden Hall, where Eomer was asked to join in, which he did with reckless abandon. He like Aragorn, was suffering from recently becoming a father, but had the fortune as to be able to leave wife and child behind, even though Arwen insisted that her ada would love to see the little baby, after all, he adored children.

After having made sure that none of the riders of Rohan were women in disguise, (Eowyn had set a new fashion amongst the nobles) the grand procession had set off again. Much to the disappointment of all involved, the journey was uneventful. Having trecked north for what seemed liked weeks, the gallant procession met nothing to stop them in their tracks except a flooded river.

Since leaving Gondor Gimil had become more and more excited. Once the border was crossed every few hours, Gimli would make the whole procession stop, and he would take the liberty of pointing out an excellent site for a mine. Whenever the company went in sight of a cave of any size or form, they would be obliged to stop, and Gimli would drag Legolas and Aragorn around it, extolling the virtues of digging things up.

Arwen was forced to look after Eldarion when the 'men' were doing the 'affairs of state.' Being the Goddess-like elf that she was, Arwen bore it with astonishing patience, until Eldarion decided that he didn't really like travelling. Two days into Rohan, Arwen surrendered her son to her husband, who was then forced to take him with the little trio as they explored caves and possible mine sites. Eldarion showed virtually no interest in lumps of rocks. Whenever he was taken into a cave he would bawl until he was removed from it. Gimli, astonished that anyone could have such strong views so early in life, showed patience unheard of for a dwarf, but after the first trip with Eldarion, even he had to admit defeat. Afterwards, the procession moved a lot faster. Eomer was heard to comment to Faramir, "The little brats do have a use then, even though they are few and far between."

After nearly three weeks travelling at high speed, the company came into sight of the Valley of Imladris where they were met by Glorfindel. He had given the final directions, which included a scenic detour for the tourists amongst the company, and had taken a quick head count, only to find, numbers were double what was expected.

_The Entrance to Imladris_

Arwen and Aragorn were now at the head of the procession as it came up to the final approach to Imladris. Eldarion was sleeping cherub-like in Arwen's arms, and even Gimli had stopped rabbitting on about mines. The elves left in the house of Elrond had gathered outside to greet the weary travellers. As Aragorn dismounted, he noticed Elrond himself was not present. Turning to help his wife dismount, he scanned the crowd praying that his father-in-law and also father was not here to see the amount of people he had brought with him. Fortunately for him, Elrond was on his way to the Grey Havens.

Elladan walked foreword and bowed very low to the King of Gondor. Smiling sweetly, he addressed his siblings; "Greetings King Aragorn, Queen Arwen. I hope your journey was tolerable?"

Arwen happily threw herself into Elladan's arms, hastily dropping Eldarion, who was caught by a quick thinking Legolas. Gimli scowled at some of the elves who were muttering about having to put up with a dwarf, despite years in Gondor he had not acquired any new manners. Without thinking, Elrohir walked over to Aragorn who was introducing the King of Rohan to anyone who happened to be listening.

"Where's Eldarion brother? I was looking forward to meeting him." Elrohir asked with a playful smile on his face. He was soon to realise that this was not a sensible question to ask.

Legolas, seeing an opportunity to get rid of his charge whilst he greeted some of his old friends, happily handed Eldarion over to Elrohir. Quickly retreating, he sank into a deep and meaningful conversation with a passing elf whom he had never met before.

Eldarion then woke, and not recognising the stranger in whose arms he now lay, took the opportunity to make himself known to Imladris. Scrunching up his face, he began to howl at the top of his lungs. Elrohir quickly looked around for Legolas, who seemed to be playing the part of nursemaid only to see him disappearing in the direction of the stables.

"Idril, will you go and get Legolas for me, I think Eldarion is his charge." Elrohir was now holding Eldarion at arm's length and totally amazed that anything so small could possibly be so loud.

Suddenly realising that the elf she had been sent to look for was the esteemed Legolas, Idril trotted off to get him. She had just laid a hand on Legolas' arm when a small stumpy character caught her eye. This was not someone she had been told of and yet here he was looking far more the hero than anyone else she had ever seen.

"Lady?" Legolas asked, trying hard not to stare too hard, "May I be of service?"

A wicked gleam came into Idril's eyes. "Yes Legolas, Lord Elrohir wants you. Or maybe I should say, Prince Eldarion wants a word." Winking at him, she transferred her gaze to the stumpy figure who was telling one of the guards how Imladris would be improved by a few caves and a few mines. Letting go of Legolas, whose heart beat she noticed was so rapid she couldn't make out the individual beats, Idril crossed the courtyard to meet the stumpy person.

Thinking it was in her best interest to make polite conversation, Idril introduced herself as a Lady of Lothlorien. Gimli's eyes shone.

"Tell me Lady," he said, bowing and touching a pocket on his chest, "How fares the Lady of the Golden Wood? Long have I walked in darkness, my life not being brightened by her beauty."

"This _has_ to be Gimli, no one else could be so obsessed with that old bat Galadriel." Idril thought, "She was in excellent health last time I saw her, although," Idril said, and with a flash of genius, just to see his reaction, she added, "she cut all her hair off. She said it was too irritating to bother with. Although we do not believe her. Doubtless there is more to it than she says."

Gimli looked as though his heart would break. He turned away, covering his face, and dropping his axe.

"She was so jealous of your hair, she said that if she cut hers, maybe it would grow back like yours." Idril was thoroughly enjoying herself, but managed to maintain the air of seriousness called for when imparting such grave news. "Alas, it is such a loss to middle earth. Maybe you could speak with her, when she arrives. Celeborn is sick with worry. We all think the Lady is going mad. She's never been like this before." Idril paused and sighed for dramatic effect. "Not even the mighty Lord Elrond can heal a broken heart."

The elves around her looked shocked. It seemed outrageous that the Lady of the Golden wood should suddenly be behaving so oddly. However, she was held in such high regard by everyone, that elves and dwarf alike who had heard Idril's statement concluded that there was a deeper meaning to Galardiel's peculiarity. Maybe she was making yet another great sacrifice for Middle Earth.

Idril, eyes twinkling looked at Gimli. Gimli had gone white (or at least what she could see had gone white). His eyes bore an expression of the deepest woe. Thinking now might be the moment to break into song, preferably a heartbreaking ballad about star-crossed lovers taking their lives, Idril assumed a superior expression, and gazing off into the distance took a deep breath, in preparation to start.

Suddenly, two arms grasped her firmly around the waist. Giving a high pitched shriek which practically deafened all the elves around her, Idril squirmed around in the strangers arms to get a better look at her attacker.

Haldir was looking at her with an expression of the utmost fury on his face. Knowing that if Haldir got the chance to speak the beautiful story about Galadriel would be totally ruined, Idril took the only course of action possible and started to sing. Arwen, who recognised the song immediately, happily joined in, adding a harmony line.

Aragorn and Legolas also recognised the song. However, their reaction was somewhat different. Covering his ears to prevent deafness, Aragorn with all the dignity he could muster hurried into his father's house. Legolas however, could only think of what a beautiful voice this vision of beauty had. Staring open-mouthed in a gormless way he looked around for someone to tell him who this remarkable she-elf was. However, very few people had remained outside. Even Haldir, (who, Legolas noticed with a wave of jealousy, had had his arms around her) had fled. This seemed odd. Surely elves should not run at the mere sound of two beautiful maidens singing? Deciding that it must be part of the romance of the song that it should not be heard Legolas turned towards the open door in an attempt to find someone who could explain it all to him. He was however brought back down to earth by the plaintive cry of Eldarion. Sighing deeply, Legolas gathered the little half-elfling in his arms and stepped in the direction of the house of Elrond, the song that should not be heard still clear in his mind.


	9. Hobbit Tales II

Chapter 8

Sam was tired. Not only had Rosie forbidden him to ride Bill –Elanor was to ride Bill, after all she had the smallest legs –Rosie had also forbidden afternoon tea. Sam had tried all the old tricks. Mr Frodo was tired, Mr Frodo had been very ill, Lord Elrond would be angry if he hadn't taken proper care of Mr Frodo. Rosie had taken none of it. She had the strength of a few dozen cave trolls according to Merry, and had a temper to match.

They had been walking for what seemed like days. They had stayed in the Prancing Pony in Bree, (Rosie had been furious at the mere mention of the 'pint' despite Merry trying to persuade her it was a medicinal thing) and had then begun the long trek to Imladris. However, unlike when they had previously walked this road, they did not have the keen eyes and ears of the ranger to guide them. Nor did they have his skill in path finding. However, eventually after walking around in circles for a few days, they arrived at Weather Top, to find no nazgul, but only the little sword Frodo had dropped there all those years ago. Thinking how nice it would be to have Strider (or Stomper as Legolas had nicknamed him) to tell them a few elven tales, the Hobbits curled up and began smoking pipes, much to Rosie's annoyance.

Half way through the night, the hobbits were awoken by Bill. Bill had apparently found a friend and was eager to introduce everyone to him. This involved a rather large amount of snorting, rolling and kicking people in the stomach. Gandalf had wanted to spend a quiet night before entering into the madness of a riotous Imladris, and so had decided to spend a few evenings at weathertop so he could once again remember how he also had defended against the Nazgul. His quiet reprieve however, was disturbed by the snores of hobbits. Before he could sneak off, Bill had alerted the hobbits to their visitor. Elanor was delighted to see her friend again, but her mother alas, was not nearly so pleased to see Gandalf. Mercifully for her, Gandalf simply smiled at the hobbits, curled up and began to snore, in the hope that no one would bother him if he did.

Merry and Pippin, annoyed at having their beauty sleep ruined, spent the rest of the night eating and discussing plans to get revenge on Gandalf. Sam hadn't noticed the arrival of Gandalf, mainly due to the amount of alcohol he had consumed the previous night, he had been very surprised when brandy had appeared in a pint, but as he knew he must eat (or drink) what was put in front of him he did not complain. Frodo had wanted a chat, but being the sensible hobbit that he was, he had accepted that the wizard was not on talking terms that evening. Trying hard not to think of what happened here a few years ago, and also trying not to think of how insensitive his friends were at making him spend the night here, he too went to sleep. Elanor, after tangling herself up in Shadowfax's mane, curled up next to the horse and fell into a deep sleep.

Bill and Shadowfax however, had a lot to catch up on. So much to the extent that they spent the rest of the night throwing horse-insults at each other in the hope that one would leave the other in peace. It was only when Gandalf woke at dawn that the 'stupid animals' as he called them stopped their insults and quietened down. In the hope of a few more hours' peace, Gandalf dozed off once more.

Merry and Pippin were up at first light getting some sort of breakfast together. Unfortunately, they only had eggs, bacon, sausage, cheese, tomatoes and a large flagon of ale. Rosie had forbidden them to touch the rest, and being hobbits of sensible nature, they had decided to avoid Rosie's wrath.

Once they had finished eating most of what they had just cooked, Merry and Pippin decided it was time to wake the others. The best way to do this, they concluded after much debate, was to either to set off one of the fireworks they had carefully brought with them, or it was to be polite and respectful, telling their elders that the sun was up, and thus it was breakfast time. Needless to say by the time they had reached any sensible conclusion of this argument, Elanor had woken and was demanding food. The noise was enough to even wake Frodo from his terrible nightmares.

Sitting up and looking around, Frodo suddenly burst into floods of tears about how unfeeling Gandalf was at bringing them here, how everyone hated him, how he wanted nothing better than to be rid of them all, and that he wanted his precious. Rosie, seeing an opportunity to get one over Gandalf, wrapped her arms around Frodo and sang a lullaby to him, telling Merry and Pippin to make breakfast and be quick about it. Gandalf, she said, was a spiteful old man who should not be allowed anywhere near decent folk.

Gandalf looked at her, and despite his best efforts was unable to stop himself bursting into fits of laughter. This inspired Rosie's anger to greater heights. Not even Sam had seen her like this when he had once walked into Bag End with dirty feet when she had just cleaned the floors. Gandalf, upon reflection had never seen even Galadriel so angry, even when Haldir had tried to seduce her in front of Celeborn.

Elanor had a voice to match her mother's. Wailing as loudly as she possibly could, Elanor reached out frantically for Shadowfax, who had become her new cuddly toy. Shadowfax, being the legendary warhorse that he was, braced himself, bared his teeth, laid his ears back, shook his mane and whinnied at Rosie, as if she was an orc attacking his little charge.

Seeing as no one was paying any attention to them, Merry and Pippin started on a second breakfast. Sam and Frodo soon joined them, leaving Rosie, Gandalf, Bill Elanor and Shadowfax to sort their own problems out.

After a few more hours of heated discussion, the little company set off, going at quite a pace as Rosie insisted on 'making up for lost time.' Because Elanor wanted to ride Shadowfax, Gandalf had to stay with them. Gandalf braced himself for the gruelling five days ahead.


	10. Unintellectual Elves

Chapter 9 –In the gardens of Imladris

Arwen and Aragorn were happily walking in the magnificent gardens of Imladris. Even though most of the elves had left, the gardens were still immaculately kept. As they walked out onto a bridge together, Arwen gave a deep sigh.

"You do think it's alright leaving Elladan to look after Eldarion? I'm not sure how much experience he has with babies." Arwen sounded peevish. She was rather annoyed at finding her dear ada away, as he was going to look after the baby. Or so she thought.

"Dearest," Aragorn said with a very gentle smile, "Idril is also with him. They will be absolutely fine. I'm just a bit worried about Legolas. I haven't seen him all day, and it's very unlike him not to be with Eldarion."

Arwen gave another heart rending sigh. "You don't think he's ill do you? Is he missing the trees or something?"

Aragorn rolled his eyes skyward. How could this she-elf, daughter of Elrond and Queen of Gondor be so dim? "My love, Elves don't get sick, and in case you hadn't noticed, there are trees here as well."

Arwen looked as though she was about to cry. Hastily wrapping his arms around her, Aragorn quickly informed her that he was sure Legolas was fine, and that he would have a chat with him later on if he still looked a bit down at supper that night.

They continued their walk in silence, absorbing the beauty of Imladris, well aware that it might be one of the last times they could, due to Gimli being here. Sitting down on a carefully felled tree, Aragorn drew his wife to his side and the two began to sing a nauseating love song together.

As the sun began to sink beneath the mountains, Arwen disentangled herself from Aragorn and they began to walk back down towards the main buildings. During the short walk a crooning voice met their ears. Whoever it was was singing very out of tune and totally oblivious to the passing of anyone else.

Arwen looked at her husband and was amazed to see him shaking with silent laughter. Frowning slightly, she moved closer and peered into the secluded glade where the singer sat. Straining her ears, she managed to hear;

"I am a handsome he-elf,

Idril is a beautiful she-elf,

I therefore think we should marry

I do not think we should tarry.

Oh let us not delay

For our wedding day

Is not so very far away

So I do say,

So I do say."

So sang Legolas of the Mirkwood realm. It then was obvious to Arwen that Legolas was not ill, he was merely in love. She turned to her husband to find him standing a little way off, tears running down his face as he was laughing so much. He did, as the respectable King that he was have the courtesy of being fairly quiet about it. However, Legolas was so entranced in his song that even a tree falling on him would not have startled him out of his fantasies.

_Elrond's Study_

Being a healer's son, Elrohir knew how to make a sleeping draught, and had promptly done so when his brother had come to him with a crying Eldarion. Eldarion had been forced to drink it, and now he was fast asleep. This meant that the three siblings, gathered in Elrond's study, had a chance to discuss the last minute preparations. Idril was lying in front of the fire in a most unladylike fashion, the cat occasionally spitting at her from its perch on the log basket, Elladan was sprawled on a couch trying hard not to look as though he had been defeated by a small screaming baby, Elrohir was sitting smugly in his father's chair with his boots on top of Elrond's desk, and Glorfindel had graced them with his presence and was now going through one of his Lord's bookshelves, in a vain attempt to find a better antidote to screaming babies than a potent sleeping draught.

Suddenly a thought struck Elladan. He was dimly aware of asking the elves at the Grey Havens to come and join the celebration. However, he could not remember if indeed he had written to Cirdan, or one of Cirdan's minions. If he had written to Cirdan then Cirdan would have got the letter before his father got there so Cirdan would no doubt ask Elrond what was happening.

Straightening up in a very important fashion, Elladan announced his revelation.

Idril got up and banged her head against the nearest wall. Then deciding that Elladan would not benefit enough from this, she took a book from the floor and hit him several times with it. This inspired the cat to descend from its perch and renew its fighting manoeuvre practice but being easily confused it attacked Elrohir instead, missed and ended up flying head first into a bookcase.

Amazed at this outburst, Elrohir got up and gave a feeble attempt to restrain his sister but quickly gave up, as it was far too much effort. The cat swung wildly from where it was attached to his shoulder until Elrohir managed to bundle it up in one of his father's robes.

_"How can you be so dim?"_ Idril practically screeched at Elladan. _"Do you really think me stupid enough to do that? Am I really as insane as you? Do I look like I have blonde hair?"_

"I think what she's saying, brother, is that Cirdan will not get the message until ada has left the Grey Havens. That way there will be no mistakes."

Eldarion stirred in his drugged sleep. Glorfindel uncurled himself from the corner in which he had taken refuge with the cat in during Idril's outburst and very carefully put a hand on Idril's shoulder, in an attempt to soothe her.

"Why did ada give me such stupid brothers?" Idril screamed, almost in tears. "Why couldn't I have had someone nice and intelligent to talk to?" Throwing herself into Glorfindel's arms, she began to howl in a most uncharacteristic and unladylike manner.

"Sh sweetheart," Glorfindel said in what he hoped was a soothing voice, "These things are sent to try us, so they say," and as an afterthought he added, "You know my dear, you really do take after your mother, she used to do this on…."

Glorfindel was cut off as a terrific crash toar through the peace of Imladris. Looking at each other in the utmost confusion, all four elves rushed out of the study and down into the main courtyard, which commanded a stunning view of all of Imladris.

Only it wasn't all of Imladris. One of the walkways over the river had dissappeared. On closer inspection, some of it was still there, in fact it looked as though someone was in the process of destroying it.

Elladan and Elrohir looked at each other, dashed back inside, and came out a few minutes later with drawn swords. According to them, orcs had attacked and everyone must therefore get their weapons and aid in the protection of their homeland.

After giving a heart-warming speech to their fellow warriors about glory, honour, comradeship and death, the elves charged down to the river and began to hastily construct a new bridge to get to the other side so they could combat the enemy.

"Keep your heads down elves," Elladan instructed, "We don't know if they have missiles."

"Keep your eyes open and your wits about you," bellowed Elrohir, "They may attempt to ford the river through foul craft!"

Legolas, Aragorn and Arwen made their way over to where Glorfindel and Idril were standing. All three were looking slightly embarrassed.

"Er, I might tell you," Aragorn began,

"You see, the point is, well, we aren't responsible.." Legolas offered,

"He's nothing to do with us." Arwen said firmly.

"So basically," Legolas continued, trying not to look too jealous of Glorfindel who had Idril clinging to him. "Well, um, he's not ours."

"What exactly are you trying to say?" Glorfindel asked, with genuine confusion. "Is there a misunderstanding or something?"

Aragorn went red. "They aren't our orcs."

"For goodness' sake man! I know you don't keep orcs as pets, so what are you trying to say?" Glorfindel said in a rather exasperated manner.

Arwen gave a small cry of alarm. "Where's Eldarion?" Fearing the worst, Arwen clutched her husband's arm and looked desperately around, naturally assuming that Eldarion had been dropped in the nearest stream.

Giving Arwen an heart-warming smile, Idril brushed her tears away and informed Arwen that her son was fast asleep in Elrond's study. Arwen was too relieved to notice the frightened look that passed between Idril and Glorfindel.

"So what exactly is going on Aragorn?" Glorfindel asked, swiftly changing the subject. "You seem to know more than most, and I would be delighted if someone could enlighten us as to why one of my Lord Elrond's bridges is now non-existent."

Aragorn sighed. For a blonde elf, Glorfindel was most eloquent, and usually at the worst of times.

"Well you did say the dwarf could come." Arwen muttered under her breath.

Idril's eyes lit up. "You mean that actually, it isn't an orc attack, it's just Gimli tearing things apart?"

"Well," Legolas said hastily, "It wasn't _my_ idea, I mean, Arwen wanted him out of her hair, so, you see, um.."

Glorfindel frowned. "What was a dwarf doing in your hair you silly she-elf?" Not being blessed with much intelligence, Glorfindel had never understood the use of metaphors.

Idril scowled up at the elf who had been holding her. Looking around for something suitable to hit Glorfindel with she suddenly remembered Elladan and Elrohir running off to attack the orcs. Terrified that her beloved Gimli would get hurt by them, she slapped Glorfindel across the face and demanded that he go and tell her brothers that it was not an attack.

After she had sent Glorfindel on his way, Idril turned back to the other three people who stood in front of her. Aragorn looked thoroughly confused, Arwen looked horrified and Legolas looked like a love sick puppy who had just found his bowl filled with dog food as opposed to the usual cat food.

Smiling sweetly, Idril asked what them what their problem was. Without any hesitation, Arwen told her. Giving a very deep sigh, Idril lead them into Elrond's study and gave a long graphic description of her parentage, leaving Glorfindel to sort out the dwarf and his like-minded companions.


	11. Of Queens and Marchwardens

Chapter 10

Galadriel was bored. The ride to Imladris had been very uneventful, Haldir was not trying to seduce every maiden in sight (this was due to him having had a severe talking to by Celeborn and several others who threatened to skin him alive and do other things to him that would not look nice in print), Orcs had not been seen even on any of the high passes, Celeborn was not constantly bawling at his horse which didn't understand 'stop' or 'go' and to add insult to injury her husband had forbidden her to start on any of the wine they had brought. Mercifully, the end of the journey was in sight. Celeborn had sent Haldir to alert Imladris to their arrival and now they were camped twenty minute's ride from their son in law's home at the foot of a damp mountain.

Galadriel groaned at the thought of having to face Elrond again so soon. It had been apparently her bad influence that had caused Aragorn to marry Arwen and Elrond would never forgive her. Sitting on a chair which had been provided for her, Galadriel closed her eyes, trying to think of ways in which she could avoid her son in law's wrath. Normally she was unphased by anyone getting angry with her, but Elrond had a knack of finding the raw nerves and trampling on them until they were so painful she wanted nothing more than to jump into the darkness of Khazad-dum.

"Is something wrong my dear?" A male voice said from behind her, "Has that naughty little Haldir been after you again? If he has I will happily roast him alive for you." Celeborn looked entranced at the thought.

Galadriel sighed. Elves were so single-minded. "No." was the only answer he got. Closing her eyes again for effect, Galadriel gave another deep sigh and began to ramble on about how her only grand-daughter had chosen mortality.

Rolling his eyes skyward, Celeborn was about to remind Galadriel how Arwen was not their only grand-daughter due to Elrond being a very naughty boy, when he realised that Galadriel was beyond reasoning, so instead he sat down beside his wife and began to meditate, a hobby which a certain blonde elf maiden had said to be most bewitching.

When Haldir had caught Idril (whom he secretly adored) carelessly telling the residence of Imladris that the Queen of the Golden Wood had chopped all her hair off, he was somewhat stunned. If it had been anyone else (Gandalf and Elrond included) Haldir would happily have joined in the story telling, purely to annoy his seniors. However, the fact that Idril had the nerve to say such things about Galadriel made Haldir wonder if maybe he was indeed the most amusing elf in middle earth. Certainly, he had competition with Idril spinning deceit like this.

Throwing such trivial matters to one side, Haldir decided to complete the mission he had been sent for. It had taken him nearly three days to find Elrohir and tell him of his Lady's approach after he had first arrived, as a certain silly blonde she-elf had proved to be a distraction. She hadn't really been worth it either, Haldir had later thought. He couldn't even remember her name.

Haldir was eventually directed to Elrond's study in the hope of finding someone important or at least someone who knew what was going on. On entering, he found Aragorn and Arwen curled up in each other's arms (the sight of which made Haldir very jealous of Aragorn) Idril sitting in Elrond's chair (looking remarkably like Elrond), and Legolas sprawled out on the floor. Legolas, Aragorn and Arwen all wore an expression of the utmost confusion and amazement.

Trying hard not to stare too hard at Idril (whose dress seemed to be a little more revealing than usual) Haldir told the three elves and one man that the Lord and Lady of the Golden wood would soon be here. Delighted at the prospect of seeing her grandmother again so soon, Arwen happily began to discuss with Idril what she would wear, how she would do her hair, and how Eldarion would be dressed. Idril happily began to go into great depths about the new hair style her new maid could do, and without waiting for any further information, the two new-found sisters left.

The male company rolled their eyes skyward at this. Females were so fickle, they never thought of anything except hair, dresses and how many elves they could seduce in one night. (If you were Arwen or Idril and were trying very hard, this was normally at least two dozen).

"So when did they arrive?" Legolas asked, "Haven't you been here for a few days now?"

Haldir smiled his maiden-charming smile, which had no effect on Legolas or Aragorn. Fluttering his eyelashes for greater effect, Haldir gave a dramatic sigh. "Her Ladyship is a little unwell. She had to rest after the weary journey. The whole troop of elves from the Golden Wood is now resting a little way off, at the foot of a beautiful mountain. It was the Lord's wish that we stopped to give her time to gather her strength before she embarked on such a celebration." Giving another dramatic sigh, Haldir turned to his audience, who all were sitting with their heads bowed.

"If only Elrond were here." Aragorn said softly, "For he is the greatest healer in Middle Earth. He would be able to heal her ills."

"Oh lamentable day!" Cried Legolas, "Oh woe for the Lady Galadriel! I shall go at once, with all haste and write a lament for her. Alas! Alas!" And with that noble thought, the elf dashed off to find a harp on which he could compose such a song.

"You really shouldn't have said that," Aragorn said to Haldir, "I heard him singing a song he had written earlier. It was awful, so bad that it made the trees shake with terror."

Haldir raised an eyebrow. "What did he sing of?"

"A beautiful she-elf. Apparently he's going to marry her." Aragorn, unaware that Haldir gossiped like the herbwoman Ioreth, foolishly related the contents of the song to him, who gradually went from white to purple.


	12. Imladris Under Fire

Chapter 11

Gimli was having a wonderful day. He had found a bridge that was so badly built that anyone with any sense would have been amazed that it had stood for such a long time. However, with the help of his dozen like-minded companions (which had insisted on going to Imladris with him to see the elvish architecture) he had put an end to the badly built bridge. Gimli and his men were standing around, discussing what the next course of action was to be. Should the foundations be dug out and rebuilt, or would it be best to leave the ruin and start again somewhere else? It was then that someone pointed at a host of elves, lead by Elladan and Elrohir charging down the valley towards them with weapons drawn. Deciding now would be a good time to stop for the day, the builders hastily dispersed in different directions, after having agreed to meet at a secret location the next day as it had come to the attention of some that elves did not always agree with dwarven ideas of architecture.

Gimli trotted away in the direction of the elven kitchens, which, although not up to the dwarven standards, provided passable food. Singing a dwarven drinking song at the top of his rumbling voice, Gimli spotted Aragorn, Arwen, Legolas and Idril running inside. Wondering if they would be worth following, Gimli changed direction and began to climb the steep slope towards them, which meant going through a few flowerbeds. Unfortunately, one such bed happened to be a rose bed so he came out with several scratches on his face. Muttering something about damned elves growing such dangerous plants, Gimli followed the hastily retreating Aragorn, only to find himself totally lost in Imladris's network of walkways, waterfalls, gardens and buildings. It was obvious to him that a lot of work needed to be done.

On arriving at the river, Elrohir and Elladan found no enemy, no orcs but simply a broken, ruined bridge. Elladan and Elrohir looked at each other with a look of the utmost horror.

"Evil things are afoot, alas," Elladan said, with a great sigh which he hoped translated into his having no idea what to do next.

"Indeed dear brother. Would that father were here, for he would be able to defend us against this nameless, shapeless, fearless terror." Elrohir sat down trying hard not to look too defeated.

"But who could have done this?" One of Elladan's warriors asked. "No elf would be capable of this, unless he is out of his wits."

"Prince Legolas seemed a little off-colour this morn, not that I would speak ill of any of the royal house of Mirkwood, of course," Another fighter made his opinion known, which immediately made all the elves there talk at once, and because elves are natural gossipers, more ideas became rumours, rumours became fact, which became very tall stories.

"So actually Lord Elladan," one of the elves asked after half an hours gossiping that would have done credit to the Gondor's woman's institute, "Legolas has gone mad, possibly under the influence of Gimli. This morning he came here to the bridge (which we all know is a very romantic place, indeed, Lord Elrond himself used to walk here with his Lady), and made a love potion (but we know not who it was for) and then when it failed to work, he tour down the bridge in his anguish."

"This is grave indeed," Elladan said. "Legolas must be found. Have him sent to my father's study when he has made himself known again."

Many elves suddenly turned to see a stumpy figure emerging from one of the midsummer roses. Gimli made his way out of one of the flowerbeds to see what all the noise was about, to find elves glaring at him and cursing about the sanctity of flowers.

Smiling, he asked what was wrong.

Elladan, who quite liked the dwarf, decided now would be a good time to gang up on Legolas, who had actually caught the eye of a certain she elf whom his brother was courting.

"Gimli, can you tell me where Legolas is?" Elladan asked in a trembling voice, hoping that it sounded sinister. "As you can see, he has destroyed the bridge which my father was so found of."

Grinning from ear to ear, Gimli bowed low, and informed the elves that he was deeply sorry for any inconvenience caused by Legolas, and that he would personally go and find him, and see that he was brought to justice.

Stomping off, the dwarf went to find someone who would find Legolas for him.

"You know brother, sometimes I think you are a little mean to that silly Mirkwood elf." Elrohir said, with his head on one side. "Is there any particular reason for such malicious actions?"

Rolling his eyes skyward, Elladan turned and made his way back inside, in the direction of his father's study.

_The "romantic" glade_

Lindir knew that he would not have any problems about finding Legolas. For one thing, Legolas had just asked him if he could possibly borrow a harp so he knew precisely where he would be, and for another thing, his 'laments' were so tuneless he could be detected a mile off.

Legolas however had ceased composing a lament for Galadriel, for his mind was otherwise occupied. Idril was actually the daughter of a mighty elf lord, therefore an equal in rank. His father would have no objection to the match, neither would hers. What Legolas failed to take into account was that Idril might have an objection to the match.

"Oh I am a handsome he elf,

Idril is a beautiful she elf," Legolas wailed, making the trees wilt and the flowers shiver.

Covering his ears, Lindir dashed towards Legolas and covered the Mirkwood elf's mouth before he could finish the awful song. Without removing his hand, Lindir informed Legolas that Gimli wanted to talk with him, and he was in the room opposite Elrond's study, and that he was to go there immediately and there was to be _no more singing_ about Idril as he was embarrassing the lady.

Giving a lovesick sigh, Legolas gathered up the harp, disentangled himself from Lindir and then went to find his silly dwarven friend.

_Elrond's Study_

"And I really don't care if he _is_ the a Prince of Mirkwood, nor do I care if he is a good friend of Gimli. I don't care if he was essential in the war of the ring. I don't care if he helped you, Aragorn, in the rebuilding of Gondor, I don't care if somehow, he has won Idril's favour, I don't care that he is a guest here, I don't care.."

"Peace brother, _please_" Aragorn said desperately trying to calm his brother down lest he wake Eldarion (who had been mysteriously asleep for rather a long time). "I'm sure Legolas isn't responsible for this. It is far more likely to be Gimli."

Idril rose with a look of fury on her face. Aragorn cringed, suddenly realising that blaming Gimli was probably the wrong thing to say, especially if Idril's temper was anything like that of her sister's. Hastily he went over to Eldarion's crib and tried to look as though he was occupied with his son.

Elladan, also fearing his sister's wrath, decided that Legolas was indeed responsible for the destruction of the bridge, even though he knew that actually it was Gimli. Catching his sister's shoulder, he told her that the true destroyer of the bridge would be found and brought to justice.

"Why don't you go and find him Idril?" Aragorn asked, "Then we could sort this out here and now." Needless to say, Aragorn knew the longer Idril stayed in the same room as him, the greater the chance of her releasing her anger on him. Previous trials had shown (Elladan had informed him) that Idril could be one of the worst fire dragons in existence.

Giving her new brother a withering look, Idril swept out of the room. As she did so, she suddenly remembered that her brother Elladan had said Legolas had somehow won her favour. Deciding that she would later inform his of the error of his ways, Idril made her way into the hall of the fire, hoping to find Legolas.

_The Hall of the Fire_

Haldir couldn't be bothered to walk back to his Lord's camp that night, so he had decided to trespass on the non-existent Elrond's hospitality for another day. Anyway, there were far more interesting things to be found in Imladris, and it would be foolish not to take advantage of it.

Once safely installed in the hall of the fire, Haldir saw a couple of chattering Ladies glancing at him. Giving one of his maiden-winning smiles, he strolled over to them and began making the pointless flattery talk that all elves make to passing she-elves which they are trying to woo.

Haldir looked up a few minutes later to find that Idril had walked in. Immediately he rose, ignoring the protestations from the ladies who he had been talking to and went over to her, hoping that she would not still be angry with him at having disturbed her story of Galadriel. Smiling sweetly he bowed low and told her how wonderful it was to see her again.

Looking slightly disgusted, Idril managed to restrain herself from hitting him and asked him where she might be able to find Legolas.

Haldir had seen Legolas walk into the room opposite Elrond's study, but thinking he might be in with a chance to flirt with her, he offered her his arm and proceeded to lead her via the scenic route to Legolas.

After half an hour's sight seeing, Haldir and Idril arrived at Elrond's study. Directing her into the room opposite, Haldir bowed low and gave her his most dazzling smile in an attempt to show her just how charming he could actually be if he set his mind to it. Idril was not impressed, giving him a withering look, Idril swept into the antechamber, and shut the door in his face.

Legolas looked up as Idril walked in. Although he had no idea as to the reason of him being there, he still felt like a naughty schoolboy who had been caught raiding the kitchens. He had been wondering if perhaps Elladan or Elrohir were going to berate him for embarrassing their sister with his song, but Legolas decided against it. Elves rarely objected to love songs. Even the unromantic fools like Elladan and Glorfindel would have no objection to this one _surely._

Idril looked down at Legolas, debating whether it would be worth screaming at him about how stupid he was to sing such awful songs about her when she thought him nothing compared to a certain other person, but she decided against it. It was far too much effort and she wasn't quite ready for the world to know of her true feelings for Gimli just yet. To be truthful, she couldn't see what Galadriel saw in him. He might be quite handsome to the old battle-axe, but he was far too dim to be anything to her.


	13. Of Hair and Queens

Chapter 12; At the foot of a cold mountain near Imladris.

Galadriel was bored out of her mind. Celeborn was no longer ranting about pointless stupidities, her dreams told nothing of dark lords or enemies, she was still forbidden to start any of the wine and to make things even worse, they had been forced to camp at the foot of a dirty great mountain for four days. Her husband had told her not to bring her mirror, (which would have provided a great distraction), saying that he wanted a few weeks without her talking nonsense about the 'future.' Celeborn was still as rude about it as he had been when she had been fool enough to marry him, Galadriel thought. He has no respect for the wise.

Haldir had been sent on an errand which would have taken the normal, respectable elf about three hours, but had not been seen for nearly five days and so the elves of Lothlorien were sitting at the bottom of a damp chilly hillside. Doubtless, Haldir had found amusement with some female in Imladris.

"Why did you send him, my Lady?" one of Haldir's brothers asked in exasperation. "Surely you must see that Haldir will spend the next few months courting anything with two legs, so his mission will be totally forgotten!" Rumil had been given one of the most boring jobs available to camping elves; ensuring the tent pegs were always in the ground firmly and after five days of this would happily have swapped it all for a diplomatic visit to the Lonely Mountain.

Galadriel looked up into the face of one of her border guards, giving him a look that would have shattered the gates of Mordor. The elf hastily reconsidered.

"I mean, surely you had foreseen this, my Lady?"

"You know Rumil," Galadriel said, "You are very close to being made into a new envoy for Erebor." (This was considered a great insult among the people of the Golden Wood). " I know perfectly well that your brother cannot keep his hands of the ladies," Galadriel stood, and looking down her nose (something her mother had taught her) she assumed a superior air, and started to ramble on about how the world was changing, the air was smelling and the water was running away. She was about to launch into a few verses of poetry depicting the fate of Luthien, when an elf who had been on watch came dashing up, telling her that Mirthrandir and a few hobbits had arrived.

Fixing a smile, Galadriel pushed Rumil out of her way, pausing only to tell him to check the tent pegs again and walked over to where the hobbits and wizard were now standing.

Gandalf happily bowed low, seizing Galadriel's hand and kissing it with a "My dear Lady, how are you this fine day? Is it not just perfect weather we have been having? I hope you have not been waiting long for us? I trust you and your Lord are in good health? May I have the honour of…"

Gandalf would have undoubtedly gone on for hours as well Galadriel knew, so she put an end to it by calling for wine to refresh their guests. Celeborn, interrupted from his afternoon siesta and now made to share his finest wine, was not pleased.

Swooping down on Frodo, Galadriel gave him a very motherly hug, which earned her a very envious look from her husband. Rosie looked pointedly at Sam to do the introductions, but as ever Sam had gone red and was fiddling with his hands, alternatively looking at the ground and Galadriel. Elanor however, did not bother to wait to be introduced. Like an elf, Elanor loved long hair (which, incidentally, was why she got on so well with Shadowfax) and to see this tall Lady with hair which was longer than she was seemed like a dream come true. Launching herself at Galadriel, who caught her, she happily began to 'plait' the Galadriel's hair, much to her mother's annoyance.

"Ah, Elanor," Gandalf cried, delighted to make himself as disagreeable as possible, "I see you have found Galadriel!"

Galadriel was desperately trying to untangle herself from this tiny hobbit child, but Elanor was having none of it. Encouraged by Gandalf she proceeded to make Galadriel's hair look rather like a rat's nest. Rosie, being so small, was powerless to help, and so after an apologetic smile to the Lady of the Golden Wood, went to meet Celeborn, who was not trying hard enough to conceal his mirth at his wife's unfortunate baby attracting tendencies.

It was at this point that due to him feeling left out and ignored, Merry let off one of Gandalf's fireworks. Unfortunately, it happened to be quite a noisy one. To make matters worse, they had aimed it so badly that it had shot right past Galadriel's ear. Butterflies and noisy birds were now flying everywhere.

Once over the initial shock, Elanor, still clinging to Galadriel's hair, started chasing them. Gandalf stood straight and proud, telling anyone who would listen (and who wasn't deafened) that that particular firework had taken him weeks of designing, and was based upon the local fauna of a small wood near to Ithilean. Rosie promptly went and boxed both Merry and Pippin on the ears, in the hope that they would not disgrace themselves again but all the while knowing that it was very unlikely to happen.

Frodo smiled weakly, trying not to look to hurt at how unfeeling they were. After all, they knew he wasn't feeling well today and he hadn't had second breakfast. Celeborn, wearing a look of great nobility raised his eyes skyward, silently praying that both Merry and Pippin would be somehow evaporated, maybe his wife could help, after all, Nenya might prove to have a use. It was then that Celeborn realised that he had insisted on her leaving Nenya behind as well. He had thought that that way he might be free of her constant rant about power.

As the whole camp was in uproar, Haldir sauntered up. Trying not to stare at the Lady of the Wood who had a hobbit in her hair, he drew himself up to his full height and with an air of someone who had something important to say, turned to Galadriel.

"My Lady," he began, with a deep bow, "It is my pleasure to inform you that Imladris awaits its," Haldir stole a glance at the company who stood around their queen, "highly _dignified _and _noble_ visitors. If you would be so kind as to follow me, I will show you to our destination."

"I will warn you here and now Haldir, if you mean to insult me, then you will wish that you had never been born." Galadriel, who was still trying to untangle the hobbit from her hair, tried her hardest to look dangerous and threatening.

"If you mean to evaporate me using Nenya my dear queen, you will run into problems." Haldir said with a smug smile on his face. "I happen to know that you –ah- _accidentally _left it behind." Haldir was grinning from ear to ear. "And a bit of gossip from Imladris," Haldir continued, suddenly seeing a way he could get back into the Lady's favour, "Apparently," all the elves around him immediately became very interested. Lothlorien elves were just as nosy as the elves in Imladris. "You are said to have gone mad. People are saying that you are in love with Gimli the dwarf, and have cut all your hair off. Obviously you have used Nenya to grow it back which is clearly a misuse of power!"

This statement had the desired effect. Celeborn turned to his wife with a look of horror and disgust on his face, Gandalf immediately began to howl with laughter at the thought of this queen being in love with a stumpy dwarf, Frodo and Sam looked on with amazement, after all, the elves were meant to be perfect in every way, this latest revelation was a serious knock to their reputation. Merry and Pippin however, seeing the effect that this statement had on everyone, began to discuss how they could bring up this same subject with far more people listening.

Galadriel's face however, to Haldir, was priceless. Her mouth slowly dropped open, as the horror of what he had said sunk into her. If Galadriel had been carrying Nenya, Haldir would have died on the spot, in a very painful manner. However, she wasn't and all Galadriel found she could do was gawp at Haldir which was not a befitting expression for a queen. Trying to regain some of her composure she turned to some of her guards and screamed at them.

_"What do you think you are doing? Arrest him immediately! Would you have me so openly ridiculed by this horrible maggot of an elf?" _ Galadriel would have continued only to find a small hand covering her mouth. Elanor was glaring up at her with a stern frown on her face.

"Galadyelle shouldn't shout. Mama says shouting is what naughty people do. I gets a spank when I shout." Elanor looked accusingly up at Galadriel.

"Go to Imladris, milady," Haldir said nearly falling over with laughter, "I'm sure Gimli will happily carry out your punishment!"

The guards around Galadriel had no intention of arresting Haldir. They were all far too busy trying to work out when this fascinating thing between Gimli and their Lady had started. "They must have been seeing each other for a long time," One said, failing to see that Gimli had only entered the wood once. "Do you think Celeborn knew?" Another added, and throwing a look of sympathy at their Lord, the elves carried on "Poor Lord Celeborn, he'll be _so _upset. He thought that he had a lovely wife there." Oblivious of their Lady getting angrier by the minute, the elves carried on. "Do you think Gimli has any idea about what he's done? I mean, the hurt he's caused Lord Celeborn?" Rumil asked the elf on his left, "Should we seek revenge?" he was quickly answered by a blonde maiden who had accompanied them. "No dear, that wouldn't be right. The path of true love never did run smoothly." Several elves agreed. "The question is," Haldir put in, "When do we expect the next heir to Lothlorien? And what will it look like? Have any of you seen a cross between an elf and a dwarf?" Most of the elves shook their heads. However, before they could go any further in that direction of lewdness, Rosie began to sort them out.

Being only half the size of most of the elves it was quite amazing how quickly they stopped gossiping and cowered at the sight of her.

Wearing an expression that would have done credit to Queen Arwen when she found out that Eldarion had been drugged a few days earlier, Rosie proceeded to go round all the groups of elves and give them a piece of her mind.

"And I think you _'perfect' _elves should have far more respect for your Lady, and as for saying such things in front of my Elanor, I am totally furious with you. If it wasn't for the fact that I was going to see Arwen I would turn back now." Rosie was now purple. "If I ever hear anything like this again, I will cut off all your silly ears, cut of your hair," (this was a major insult for elves) "and then cut out your tongues so can never insult anyone in this obscene manner again! Do I make myself clear?" Rosie turned to the elves around her, the braver of whom were either looking at their feet and shuffling nervously, and the not so brave were cowering behind trees. _"I said do I make myself clear?!" _Rosie screeched at the terrified elves, some of whom managed to nod lest she start screaming again.

Nodding to Galadriel, Rosie turned to Sam and asked if he was ready to go. Gathering his baggage, Sam picked up the reigns of Bill and tried to look as though he was ready to move on again. But Rosie was off again, for the simple reason. She had seen Haldir.

After an hour's lecture about loyalty, honour and duty, Rosie turned back to Galadriel who was sitting on the ground, drinking one of her husband's favourite vintages and teaching Elanor how to plait hair. Merry and Pippin had joined her and were trying very hard not to ask questions about Gimli.

Gandalf was still trying to console a distraught Celeborn. "My mother told me not to marry her, she said it would turn out wrong, and look what happens. She goes and falls in love with a _dwarf_ how can I bare the shame?"

Frodo, who wanted nothing more to get to Imladris and be able to see Bilbo and Elrond again, walked over to the distraught elf Lord with a large goblet of wine and tried to help. "I don't really think Haldir was telling the truth, my Lord," Frodo said gently. "I think that Haldir was lying, just to break you two up. I think he has his eye on Galadriel, and is jealous of you." Celeborn took the handkerchief Frodo offered, downed the wine in one go, and, sniffing slightly, he turned to Gandalf, asked if this could possible be true.

"I'm sure it could be true," Gandalf replied huffily, seeing his chances with Galadriel evaporate, "She wouldn't still be with you after all these years if she loved someone else."

Celeborn drew himself up to his full height. "In that case," Celeborn said in an important tone, drawing his sword, "Haldir shall pay the price for insulting my Lady!"

With that noble thought in mind, Celeborn advanced to the spot where he had last seen Haldir. Haldir however, had dissappeared.

Rolling his eyes skyward, Gandalf called to Shadowfax and the company prepared to move off in the direction of Imladris.


	14. The Council of Elladan

Chapter 13; One of the many council rooms of Imladris.

Legolas sat with his head bowed. He still had no idea as to why he was there, he had only agreed to go because someone had said Idril would be there. Miserably, it had not turned out as she had promised. He was sitting in front of Elladan (who was dressed in one of his father's robes in an attempt to look Lordly and powerful) and there were countless other elves, humans (and others) sitting in a semi circle around him. Just before he had entered, he had heard Elladan call out in a thunderous tone: "Bring in the accused! Let him be brought to justice!"

Feeling as thought the world was against him, Legolas began to form the beginnings of a lament in his mind. When they had finished talking, he would amaze them all with his heartbreaking melody.

"And so we thus accused you Legolas, son of Thranduil, Prince of Mirkwood. How do you plead. Guilty or not guilty?" Elladan concluded his magnificent speech that Idril had written for him, and turned in the general direction of Legolas.

"The Prince and the Idril," Legolas thought, "Went to sea, in a beautiful….sea, no, … pea green boat." Legolas was so wrapped up in his lament, (which had quickly turned into another love song) that he had failed to notice anything that was going on.

"Prince Legolas?" Elladan said firmly, "How do you plead? Guilty or not guilty."

But alas, the elf's mind was otherwise occupied. Trying to think of something to rhyme with 'boat' he failed to notice everyone staring at him.

"LEG-OH-LAS!" Elladan bawled, "HOW DO YOU PLEAD?!"

Such was the shock, Legolas nearly fell of his chair. Attempting to maintain his dignity without looking overly confused, he looked up at Elladan with a look of disgust. "I don't plead anything." Legolas answered with a superior air. "Pleading is beneath Royalty." Regal put-down complete, Legolas resumed his mental search for a word to rhyme with boat.

Elladan looked very pleased. Such an absurd testimony would put this trial into the history books! His name would have to be in there somewhere – not just Elladan, but Elladan the Judge! He smiled happily, forgetting he was supposed to be wearing the sinister scowl that was called for in a case of this seriousness.

Aragorn who had been becoming more and more concerned as the - so far brief - trial had worn on, got up and walked over to Legolas. Kneeling beside his friend, Aragorn gently placed a hand on Legolas' knee and looked up at him.

"Legolas," Aragorn said soothingly, "What on earth is wrong with you?"

Legolas looked at Aragorn, and then he looked around at everyone else who was staring at him. Abruptly feeling very self-conscious, Legolas looked back at Aragorn, who certainly seemed to be very concerned.

"What's going on Aragorn?" Legolas asked in a very small whisper. "Why is everyone staring at me?"

Glorfindel rose from his position beside Elladan and walked over to Legolas. Looking into the blonde elf's eyes, Glorfindel asked him if he was feeling ill. Legolas returned Glorfindel's gaze with a fair amount of confusion apparent on his face. He said nothing.

Aragorn looked up and across at Elladan. "When's Elrond getting back?" he asked, louder than he would have liked, "I have a feeling we are going to need his healing skills before too long."

Elladan quickly snapped out of his juvenile dreaming and sat bolt upright. The mention of his father always had that affect on him. For the first time since the beginning of the trial, he actually looked at the accused. He was shocked - Legolas was looking very very ill. He certainly need _someone's_ healing skills.

Idril stood up and walked over to where Legolas was sat. She wandered if this was what happened to all Elven Princes who completed heroic quests. Then she remembered that Legolas hadn't actually done the heroic bit. The hobbits had destroyed the ring, her brother-in-law had reclaimed his kingship, but all Legolas had done was be poncy and fiddle with his hair whenever anyone looked at him. She knew - she'd asked Gimli. The more she thought about it, the more she realised that Legolas was a half-life, destined to fail at everything he did. He would never achieve the perfection that comes to normal elves so naturally. He'd always be trying too hard in some places and not enough in others. He'd die a stupid old elf. A single stupid old elf.

Legolas looked up at Idril and wondered if she would like his new song.

"Legolas, what _is_ the matter?" Idril asked with a slightly disgusted look on her face.

"Whsefyes." Legolas answered, trying not to look too miserable. Her expression of disgust had registered somewhere in his mind, evidently she didn't like the green tunic he was wearing.

"Legolas?" Aragorn tried again, hoping for a response in a vaguely recognisable language.

"Myhaulosdve." Legolas wailed, weakly trying to shake off the dozen or so hands trying to keep him in his chair.

Eomer, who sat in the front row of spectators was amused. It had never occurred to him how...odd the seemingly perfect elves could be. Legends told of the elves being wise in every way, certainly not making spectacles of themselves in front of others, especially others of less significant races. It occurred to him that perhaps the elven stories which Aragorn had been telling them in Gondor were not quite as truthful as he had made out to be. Perhaps this was why the Queen of Gondor had refused to allow some of the history books (written by men) to be allowed out of her own personal collection.

Gimli was thoroughly enjoying himself. He'd managed to get the blame of destroying a bridge laid on a most naïve and self centred elf ever to be in existence. Also he was certainly making his way into this rather-nice-looking elf maid's favour with exceedingly little effort. Legolas being in such a state as this was definitely not an opportunity to be missed. Getting to his feet, Gimli addressed the council.

"Ladies," Gimli began with a dwarf bow to Idril, "Elves, men and all others," here he winked at Bilbo who was finding the course of events amusing enough to record in the latest edition of his book, "Today, Legolas, a companion of mine from Mirkwood has been accused..." Gimli was cut off by a heart-rending wail from Legolas, who was now trying to force Aragorn out of the way so he could see Idril.

"As I was saying," Gimli bellowed, only to be cut off by another shriek from the distressed Master Greenleaf, who now was turning a pleasing shade of magenta.

"Maybe we should tie him up." Glorfindel suggested, "and gag him, so he cannot make any more foul noises."

Tears were now streaming down Legolas' face and unable to stop the emotions so long held in check, he wrenched himself free of Aragorn and Elladan only to find himself almost immediately in front of Idril. Her look of absolute disdain, did not register in his mind, and he started to hum the introduction to his flowering love song whilst gazing mournfully into her beautiful eyes.

Idril was repulsed by the sweaty, unappealing male who clasped her hands to his chest, pressed his face within a few inches of hers, and sang with even less tune than Aragorn could muster. Everyone nearby was bent double with mirth, which annoyed her even more.

Fortunately a loud crash interrupted proceedings. Everyone swung round to see who had caused it. Galadriel stood in the doorway. She was looking mean, lean and very angry. It did not go unnoticed by the council that a small hairy-footed creature was in her hair.

_Elrond's Study_

"And so you see, my dear Lady Grandmother," Elladan concluded another speech written by Idril, "We had to bring him to justice. How could we let him get away after such a dreadful crime had been committed?" Turning his head to look at his brother, who nodded violently in support, Elladan sat down in his father's chair, to find the cat already sitting in it.

Actually Elrohir had been nodding in agreement all the way through Elladan's speech (Idril had told him to), and now he rose and with an air of great wisdom said, "It is what father would have done if he had been here, I am sure of it."

"Yes," Elladan commented, trying hard to look thoughtful at the same time as neatly shutting the cat in a drawer, and turning to Idril he continued; "Sister, would you not agree?"

Celeborn, who had been sitting with his wife glanced over at Idril and then looked back at Elrohir who was looking as though the cat had been let out of the bag. Turning to his wife, he gave her an 'I told you' look, to which Galadriel responded by rolling her eyes skyward.

"So back to the matter in hand," Elladan said, trying to divert the conversation, as well as shake off the irate cat which had somehow escaped before the lock could be turned, "What shall we do with Legolas? It seems a bit mean to lock him up just before the fun is about to begin."

Galadriel gave her grandson a withering look. "You both have managed not to tell me why Elrond isn't here. Although I have no objection to him not being here, it is a little rude of him to invite so many people to his home, only to find that he isn't here to act as host."

Blushing to the tips of his pointed ears, Elladan became very interested in the weather, and Elrohir decided that it was time that the Lord and Lady were shown to their rooms.

But Frodo, who had gone unnoticed up till then, suddenly began to sob. "It isn't fair. I was told that everything would be alright when we got here, and all I find is some stupid elf trying to impress everyone else by dressing up as his father. I've been so ill, nobody cares, after all I've done for this middle earth. It's not fair, nobody likes me, all I seem to do is look after other people's problems. I'm still ill, people should respect me after all I am a ring bearer. Just because I am not as tall as those stupid long haired hairdressers." The former ringbearer continued to rant with very few people paying him any interest for some time.

Arwen slipped in, and looked around in an attempt to find her husband (Eldarion was being more than a little tiresome) took one look at the sobbing hobbit and, scowling at her brother Elladan, she swooped down on Frodo.

"Look what you've done to him, after all he's done for you, is this the way you treat someone who nearly sacrificed his life for you?" And in the typical she-elf manner, Arwen continued to rant in much the same way Frodo had a few minutes earlier. Frodo, delighted that someone was taking an interest in him and noticing Aragorn wasn't around, threw his arms around Arwen, and nuzzled his face into her ample cleavage. As gently as she could, Arwen pushed off the over excited hobbit and ran for it.

Shaking his head in amusement at the sillyness of his granddaughter – he knew about hobbits, Celeborn pressed his grandson for news of Elrond.

"Well, I regret to say, that it really is time for me to dash, I must change before supper and instruct many people on important things," Elladan announced, in a grand manner trying very hard to sound as though he understood what 'important' meant. "I will have a servant show you to your rooms."

Idril, giving a sigh of annoyance at her brother's stupidity, got up and pushed Elladan back into his chair, narrowly avoiding standing on the cat which was eyeing the hobbit in Galadriel's hair. Turning to her not-strictly-grandparents, she took it upon herself to tell them exactly what was happening.

"Well you must understand, father would never admit to wanting to _see _Eldarion, but down in his heart of hearts, we all knew he really wanted to act in the true elven grand-parent fashion, I mean, spoil him, take him off his parent's hands and so on. So, we took the problem into our own, reliable hands. After sending father to the Grey Havens, we invited as many people here as possible just to annoy, I mean to celebrate. He'll be here very soon, if all goes to plan."

"And if it doesn't?" Galadriel had always been pessimistic. With good reason too, as Elrond would always spend more time at the Grey Havens than was strictly necessary. She had noticed such prolonged visits had started when his best friend had started an always open gambling den down by the docks.

"We'll just have to have the party without him." Elladan replied, trying not to look too immature.

"Well, to be truthful, I would rather have a party without him. He can be a bit of a spoil-sport when it comes to drinking." Celeborn commented, leaning back in his chair and looking very much relieved.

"So we know," Elrohir grumbled. "The grumpy bastard took the entire contents his wine cellar with him."


	15. Mirkwood Mentality

Chapter 14 – A Random Room in Rivendell

Legolas had spent the past few hours in a room from which he could not exit. The only door was locked, the windows were all barred and the chimney was so narrow, even he, Mirkwood elf that he was, could not climb up it. Heaving a sigh at the oddness of the world, Legolas collapsed into a chair and began to rehearse his latest song.

"The Prince and the Idril,

Went to sea, in a beautiful pea green boat,

They took some honey and plenty of money,

Wrapped up in a lovely love-note.

I then looked up to the moon above,

And sang to a very small harp,

Oh dearest Idril, oh Idril my love,

How much you remind me of a carp,

A carp, how much you remind me of a carp."

Legolas was so wrapped up in this song, which he was sure no dwarf could rival, (and it must have just been the gossip of the servants rather than anything serious) he did not immediately notice the Lord and Lady of the Golden wood entering his room. Not for long however, as a small furry-footed creature hurled itself at him, and quickly became tangled in his hair.

"Ai! Ai!" Legolas wailed, "I am being attacked, sweet Valar, save me from this!"

Elanor promptly tried to cover his mouth with her small hand, and in doing so managed to knock the elf off his chair. Wailing all the louder, Legolas desperately looked around for his weapons, only to find Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn staring down on him with a look of deep amusement in their eyes. Needless to say, it was the only thing that gave away mirth, if it wasn't for there eyes, they might have been watching grass grow.

The valiant elf-prince, who had fought countless battles, slaughtered hundreds of orcs in the War of the Ring, tried with all his might to engage the enemy in combat, only to find his attacker was so attached to his hair, he would only succeed in tearing his beautiful locks right out if indeed he was to manage to escape this terror.

With a very neutral expression (of which she was decidedly fond) Galadriel politely asked Legolas if he could stop attacking Elanor.

"This is no flower!" The deranged elf cried, still fighting the hairy-footed creature, "This is a foul fiend, which must be destroyed! Ai!"

Legolas received a hearty slap from Galadriel. "No strong language in front of infants if you please Greenleaf!" she ignored how ironic it was for her to be saying that, "Her mother would be furious, and I think we can safely assume that you do not wish to get on the wrong side of her."

Eowyn, on hearing the commotion rushed in with a drawn sword in hand. Since the end of the war she had not managed to have a good fight with anyone (according to her husband ladies of Gondor did not fight, much to her annoyance) and so the war cries issued from the hobbit excited her immensely. Squealing with terror, Elanor let go of the hair she had been clinging to, and wrapped her tiny arms around Legolas' neck.

Realising his mistake, and that the helpless young maiden of the Shire needed his aid, Legolas found the nearest weapon to hand (which turned out to be a chair leg) and he attacked Eowyn with it. As Eowyn was a far better fighter, and Legolas wasn't helped by the fact that he had a hobbit hanging off his neck, he was knocked to the floor by the flat of Eyown's sword within the first moments.

Struggling to hold back his laughter, Celeborn placed a hand on the blood crazed Eowyn's shoulder, who was still waving her sword around, fighting imaginary ringwraiths and orcs for imaginary Aragorns.

"My dear," Celeborn said, as firmly as possible in his current state, "Would you please leave Legolas alone?"

"Stand aside!" Eyown cried, "I shall rid this world of this foul fiend! Draw thy sword! Fight me!"

"Eowyn!" Galadriel snapped, "You really aren't helping matters. Legolas is very ill, and he clearly needs our help and all you can do is knock him out!"

Giving a huge sigh, Eowyn sheathed her sword and stalked out, hoping to find her adorable Aragorn, or at least Faramir whom she had left exchanging silly songs and stories with Bilbo.

Once Eowyn had left, Galadriel gave her husband's arm a sharp tug, which managed to gain his attention. Kneeling down beside the unconscious elf, Galadriel gently began to untie Elanor from Legolas. Celeborn went to find water, but all he managed to find was a large vase of flowers. Throwing the flowers into the fireplace, he tipped the entire contents of the vase over Legolas's head.

Elanor quickly flung herself into her adopted-mother's arms, who leapt to her feet to avoid the mass of water. Wearing a stern face, Celeborn waited for Legolas to come round.

Giving a low moan, Legolas sat up and shook himself, trying to shake off that everyday feeling of being hit around the head. Galadriel looked him in the eye, and for the fourth time that day, someone asked the Mirkwood Prince if indeed he was ill.

Trying to look distressed, Legolas heaved a mellow-dramatic sigh and got up, and, in an almost drunken swagger, he walked over to the barred window. The beginnings of another lament were already forming in his mind. He did not answer.

"Celeborn, when will Elrond get back? I have no wish to look after this manic elf for the next few weeks." Galadriel did not sound pleased. In truth she wanted nothing more than to make a good start to this working mother's union which Rosie and Arwen were arranging. She had high hopes that she would be elected as the chairwomen – being the good-natured, well known, and experienced lady she felt she definitely was.

Giving his wife a bewitching smile, Celeborn was about to answer that he hadn't a clue, when a horrible groan followed by a crash rolled around the room. Legolas, knowing what it was, began to wail in a heart-breaking manner. Elanor, who wanted nothing more than to curl up in 'Galady's' hair and go to sleep began to whimper. Celeborn closed his eyes and raised a hand to his brow, a look of horror crossing his face. Before Galadriel could react, there came the noise of a very angry argument from somewhere in the courtyard below.

"I have a feeling the elves of Mirkwood who arrived yesterday morning have had a disagreement with the dwarves they brought with them." Celeborn said with a deep sigh.

Legolas stopped his wails and stared at Celeborn. "Ada is here?" the elf asked in a shaking voice, turning pale at the thought of his father's reaction at the knowledge of his son loosing a suitor to a dwarf.

Galadriel looked him in the eye and nodded. Then, in a most unqueenly manner, she burst into fits of laughter. She had read Legolas' thoughts and was deeply amused by them.

Legolas, on realising that Galadriel had read his thoughts, groaned aloud, hid his face in his hands, and resumed his wails of distress.

Celeborn covered his ears and prayed that Elrond would return soon. This was going to be a trying reunion.

_The "Romantic" Glade_

King Thranduil was a familiar face in Imladris. He and Elrond were particularly good friends, owing to them having a lot in common. Both adored wine, and both were very fond of a little scandal here and there, as long as no one else knew. His Queen, a very pretty, gentle sort of lady, had firmly decided a long time ago that elves never grew up, and had then made the most of her marriage by trying to console the many elves, dwarves, wizards and hobbits who brought in a steady stream of complaints about the total lack of respect that the Mirkwood King showed to anyone.

On the whole everything had gone well for the happy couple, except when the children had begun to arrive. The King had found that whilst the arrival of a child brought about pleasantries (it was a very good excuse to hold a banquet with a lot of wine to toast the new infant) in the long run they were not a good notion. For one thing, the Queen insisted on looking after them, and so there were many sleepless nights, when his dear wife paid the elflings more attention than she had to her husband for their entire marriage. Secondly, the sons in particular took after their father, in would down copious amounts of wine at any opportunity. This meant that there was less for the King. This need not bother him, after all, the King had lots of wine, but he had found that looking back over the years, his sons, (put together) had drunk more than he had. This was a disgrace to the King, and it was for this reason that he had not been to Imladris for so long. Elrond would no doubt make fun of him for this mishap.

The one flaw of the elves of Mirkwood is their love of trees. This does not pose a problem normally, as they tend to live in them. When not living in the trees, they keep as close as they possibly can to them. Imladris alas, was not built in the trees, nor was it built very close to the trees. It was built in a valley, which did _not_ contain a forest. To the elves of Mirkwood, Imladris was thus a barren wasteland. The trees that grew nearby were not built on, but built around. The gardens were full of small, stumpy trees (which had been compared to dwarves) and although they had very pretty flowers in them which looked and smelled reasonably nice, it really wasn't the same as real, big trees. The King - after a few glasses of wine he had been 'making sure were fit for Elrond's table' - had thus decided upon entering Imladris that it was essential that something should to be done about it.

However, a few problems had been encountered on the way. The first was what to do, the second was how to do it, the third was how to do it without people noticing, and the fourth was how to do it in a way that would not harm the living environment. That is, with the exception of the dwarves' living environment, which was assumed to already be beyond repair.

Eventually, they had reached a conclusion. Trees were to be brought into Imladris and planted, so they could be sat under, lived in and generally made to feel welcome. The only problem with this was that with the best will in the world, a sapling of a tree can only hold one elf at the most. It then became clear that large trees would be needed. Unfortunately, the ents were not around to do the tree-herding, (the ents were still after Saruman's blood despite Gandalf's attempts at trying to convince them he no longer existed) so the elves had taken the matter into their own hands. After several experiments which consisted of cutting trees down and bringing them into Imladris and then putting them in holes in the hope of them staying upright, it was decided that the trees had to be _uprooted _then they would have 'more legs to stand on' as the King had put it. The elves had then brought the uprooted trees into Imladris, dug holes (with the 'help' of the dwarves) and re-planted them, in the hope that if they sang to them enough they would not die, but have everlasting life in the realm of Imladris.

After a hard day's work, the Mirkwood elves had managed to re-plant two dozen trees in the flower beds, the streams, the fountains and on the main road through the elven-dwelling. To the Greenleaf King, it was a vast improvement, and he had spent the remainder of the evening sitting in one of his new trees singing a hideous love song. The elves that had heard Legolas sing, suddenly understood why the songs he had composed were so awful - it was in his blood. The tree in which the King had sat and sung wilted and would have died the next day if it hadn't have been for the careful administrations of Celeborn, who then refused to acknowledge Thranduil as anyone even vaguely related to him for the rest of his time in Middle earth.

The dwarves on the other hand, when entering Imladris had been unmoved by the elven splendour that they had been confronted with. Instead, they had loudly complained about the lack of caves, mines and rocks. They had then quickly started to remedy this by digging lots of small pits, in the hope of striking gold, (elves of course being very greedy things who would stoop so low as to build on gold and mithril mines just to prevent the dwarves from finding them). Gimli had directed operations, and under his watchful eye, the morning's work had gone very successfully. The only problem had been when, on returning to previously dug pits, trees (fully grown) had been found in them, looking as though they had just been planted, as though they were saplings. This unsurprisingly confused the dwarves, but due to their constant interest in the mithril mine beneath Imladris (which had recently become part of dwarven legend) they had kept their heads down, and had continued their labours. It was when someone suggested setting a watch over one of the holes that the real truth came out.

It was reported that a very drunken blonde elf (looking like Legolas) was telling other elves to put trees in their carefully dug pits. Sometimes they hadn't even got the trees the right way up.

The dwarves had been very angry about this, it was not fair that their careful hard work should be spoilt by stupid elves planting trees. They had been wondering about whether or not they should go to war with them, when they had heard the King of Mirkwood singing in one of his trees

"My love is like a red red rose,

Reminding me of my nose

On a very cold day

In the merry month of May

If only I had my say

In what happened to my nose

Oh my love is like a rose."

The dwarves had fled at the sound of this, dropping their tools and running towards the nearest building, only to find that a similar singer was attempting to "perfect" a similar song. After such ill-treatment Gimli and his companions began to think revenge of some form was warranted. Certainly the elves of Rivendell were incredibly rude, not only to build on the biggest Mithril mine in Middle Earth but to also try and distract people from finding it with trees. It was resolved that over supper that evening (which was supposed to be a good one in order to welcome the King of Mirkwood) some form of retribution would have to be agreed on.


	16. You shall NOT pass

Chapter 15 - In the Great Hall of Imladris.

Elladan arose with an air of splendour. On his brow was the crown of Imladris, which gave him the appearance of one of the Kings of old. In his face there was a manner of great wisdom, knowledge and deepest understanding. His crimson robe billowed out around him, giving an appearance of great nobility. It was obvious to all present that Elrond had a son to be proud of.

Galadriel was not impressed. As she had pointed out to her husband, Elladan's eyes clashed with the robe he was wearing – a robe that she was convinced Elrond had worn to a meeting of the white council only a few years back - and the hairstyle was totally out of fashion. It would make good discussion material for the next WMU (Working Mother's Union). Doubtless Rosie and Arwen would be _most_ interested.

Celeborn had Eldarion in his arms. Like his son-in-law, he would never admit to liking babies, but if they were asleep then he did not loathe them totally. After listening to a inspiring, witty and interesting speech from Elladan – attributes that had developed remarkably since Idril had started writing them, Galadriel got up and thanked Elladan on behalf of all recent visitors for his very warm welcome. She did it with admirable effort and enthusiasm, but it was clear to Celeborn (who had known her for far too long) that she meant totally the opposite. This probably had something to do with her suspicion as to the genuineness of her grandson's hospitality.

"Well," Rosie said brightly, after the speeches were finished, "I think it's time the little ones went to bed." She got up and walked over to Galadriel, and after untangling her daughter from the Queen of Lothlorien's hair, she dumped Elanor in Frodo's lap, and told him to put Elanor to bed, as "It was about bloody time Uncle Baggins read the little tyke a bedtime story."

Arwen turned to her husband, with a 'get off your fat behind and do something for a change' look. Aragorn took the hint and went to find his son. Extracting him from Celeborn's involuntary clasp the King of Gondor grumpily tucked him under one arm and walked out.

Smirking at her superiority over her husband, Arwen turned in time to see Eyown hurrying after him. A look of horror crossed her face, but then she remembered the countless times he had told her that he cared nothing for a wild shieldmaiden of the north who knew nothing about dwarves. This had puzzled Arwen immensely, but knowing humans were on a lower mental level to elves, she had taken it as a romantic mortal way of saying that he didn't like Eyown.

Somewhere in the hall, a dwarf belched loudly and started complaining about the total lack of decent alcoholic beverages.

"Then you should have brought your own!" Glorfindel bellowed at them. Glorfindel was suffering from the effects of too much wine. He had found that having so many visitors to look after (or ignore in the dwarves' case) was very stressful and as a result had been forced to resort to starting his drinking at breakfast in order to survive through until dusk.

"I'm not the host!" The dwarf roared back, clearly still bitter at the tree that had appeared in his carefully dug mine entrance, "and I therefore should not have to!"

"Stupid dwarves" Haldir said loudly to no one in particular. "They have never possessed such a thing as manners."

"That's not fair!" snapped Eyown, who had returned from an unsuccessful Aragorn-hunt. "I think they are sweet."

"Yes they are," Idril cried out, "Anyone who thinks otherwise will have to face me!"

"I have no objection to that," Haldir said with an infuriating grin. And turning to Galadriel he asked with his head on one side, "Did Gimli ever carry out your punishment?"

"Here now!" The King of the Lonely Mountain said, getting up, "A dwarf punish an Elf Queen? This is something I would like to see! What did she do Gimli?"

Celeborn and Gandalf sprang to their feet, but before they had time to say anything, Gimli was up and out of his chair also, walking menacingly over to Haldir. But the stupid elf was too far gone in his idiocy.

"Galadriel has been misbehaving Gimli! She must be suitably punished. It is simply not right that she is allowed to wield power and not take responsibility for such terrible deeds!"

Leaping onto the nearest table, Haldir avoided Gimli's 'axe', which actually was a soup ladle. However, he managed to upset several candelabras, serving dishes, soup dishes and even a couple of wine decanters. The elves and hobbits who had been helping themselves to the finger buffet, were evenly spattered with hot and cold culinary delicacies. Enraged by the waste of food and - in some cases - the ruining of their top social nosh-up clothes, halfing and elf-kind leapt onto the tables and joined Gimli's attempt to bring Haldir to justice.

Haldir alas, was a tap-dancing wood elf, and jumping from table to table whilst chased by an angry food covered mob did not prove difficult for him.

Galadriel, looking a little flushed, tried to move towards the nearest door, but was stampeded by elves who ran in to help their kinsmen. For a while, the dwarven visitors contentedly watched - placing bets, cheering on favourites and generally pissing everyone off – not particularly feeling it necessary to help Gimli, who was bellowing instructions at the elf and hobbit pursuers.

But when a dwarf was hit by a flying slice of bread, the cease fire was broken and war declared. Wrenching up the trellis tables, the dwarves started throwing them around with predictable results. Frightened by huge projectiles sailing through the air and crashing into walls, the elves began squealing in terror and hiding in corners, whilst the hobbits rallied round Rosie and lead a concerted counterattack against the Dwarven line. Gandalf, who had not had a good fight in months, found himself ranking in proudly with the hobbits as they charged.

Confusion and chaos ensured. Candlesticks that had been Elrond's pride and joy were smashed against helmets in the heat of drunken battle. Gimli, giving the typical dwarf roar, attacked the nearest person to him, only to find it was Galadriel. Pretending he hadn't seen her, he jumped over her, missed and ended up in a tangled mess with Galadriel, her hair and a small furry-footed creature who evidently wasn't ready for bed. Mercifully, Celeborn was too busy laughing at Sam's attempts to calm Rosie down to notice his wife lying beneath Gimli.

The battle cries continued to sound until Elladan managed to shout loud enough to get everyone's attention. However, Idril hadn't planned a speech, and Elladan had never been one who could think on his feet. Instead, he remembered a few lines from one of Bilbo's books.

"My dear Elves, Hobbits, Dwarves, Men and any others. I hope you are enjoying yourself as much as I am." This was greeted by drunken shouts that sounded fairly affirmative. "It is a great pleasure to have you here." This did not go down quite so well. Not everyone was convinced Elladan was telling the truth. "Alas, several millennia is far too short a time to spend amongst such excellent beings, races and cultures. I don't know half of you so well as I should like, and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve. I should like…"

Elladan was cut off by a deafening explosion. Merry and Pippin had found Gandalf's supply of new fireworks, and so had set off the largest, which exploded in the shape of a Balrog, which Gandalf had designed as a compliment to himself, in case anyone had forgotten how he had defeated one. The balrog then began to chase an unfortunate she-elf (which the local grapevine said was Elladan's true love, whom was currently being spurned by him, Galadriel informed Gimli) who promptly ran to her lover, only to find him roaring with laughter. The balrog had set fire to several tablecloths, which in turn set fire to tables. One stupid dwarf threw decanter of wine over the fire, only to get his beard singed when it exploded. Elanor was screaming with all her might, Haldir had found a convenient table to hide under, Glorfindel, furious that he was not the one playing the important role of defeating the balrog threw his goblet on the floor and stormed out, unnoticed by everyone. But Gandalf was standing on the top table, going over his Balrog defeating moves, which earned him a round of applause from the tourists of Gondor and Rohan.

As the Balrog began to fizzle out, Frodo, remembering what happened to the dragon, ran for the door, in the hope of escaping before he was blown to bits. The main entrance was the nearest, but to his surprise, it was open, (which it hadn't been a few minutes earlier) and a livid looking Elrond stood in the doorway.

Elrond opened his mouth to speak, but the Balrog explosion cut him off. Elves, Hobbits, Dwarves and Men screamed together whilst trying very hard to get away from this terror. Gandalf alone, had found himself standing on the high table in full view of everyone and had even managed to shout "YOU SHALL NOT PASS!" in an impressive voice just before the explosion.

Pleased to have remembered his cue, Gandalf looked round at the dining hall with a satisfied smile on his face. It was then that he noticed Elrond.

Elrond was not looking at Gandalf, nor was he looking at the state of his dining hall. The sight of his mother-in-law entangled with a dwarf failed to catch his notice. Not even the rest dwarves (who had nearly recovered and were about to start fighting from where they had left off) could capture his attention. Elrond's eyes were fixed on his son Elladan. The robe Elladan was wearing had been given to him by his wife. The crown he wore had been made specially for him, and his chair was being polluted by the mere presence of his son. The goblet his son had been drinking from had been a peace offering from Thorin. The she-elf clinging to him was from the milking parlour and yet here she was attached to the Lord of Imladris' son.

Galadriel managed to untangle herself from the numerous bodies attached to her. Picking herself up, she turned to her son-in-law.

"How on Middle Earth," Galadriel began, in a trembling voice, "Could my own daughter produce such an _imbecile_ of a son? It must be _your_ Edain blood coming through Elrond, it certainly isn't in our line." Galadriel's voice was now deafening. "He brought us here for no reason, and then spreads scandalous lies about me, his own grandmother! I am totally ashamed of…"

Galadriel got no further. Contrary to public opinion, not everyone was terrified of her when she was in her fire-breathing state. Elanor had firmly covered Galadriel's mouth with a "Naughty Galady should be spanked."

This was just what Haldir needed. Emerging from underneath his table and not noticing Elrond, Haldir rose to the occasion, "Gimli, I'm ashamed. Can't you keep the naughty elf-witch of yours under control? I think it would be best to all if you sent her straight to bed without any more supper! Don't you agree Elanor?"

Before Elanor could reply, Elrond began to make his ominous way over to where his son sat, rooted to the spot. Silence fell on the dining hall. Elrond's face was white with fury, his eyes were narrowed and his hand was on his sword hilt but when he spoke, he sounded almost calm. Almost.

"Tell me Elladan, did I not leave strict instructions as to what was to happen here when I was away?"

Elladan could barely summon the courage to nod.

"Then why do I find humans, hobbits and far too many dwarves here? I left instructions that _no-one_ was to be invited whilst I was away."

Elladan's courage returned, perhaps due to the amount of his father's best wine he had consumed. (This was thanks to Celeborn, who had spent the first few days of his visit going through Elrond's chambers until he found the key to the 'emergency' supply) Smiling recklessly at his father, he rose and bowed low. "Dearest ada, I followed your instructions to the letter. No one was invited after you had gone."

Elrond raised a questioning eyebrow, something Elladan should have taken as a hint to run before he was cut to pieces.

"Arwen invited them before you left."

Through gritted teeth Elrond managed: "Arwen is currently in Gondor is she not? I find it very hard to believe your sister capable of doing this, she was always such a sweet girl." Elrond paused, a slight amount of sadness crossing his face. He would never see her again.

"ADA!" Arwen had just entered, in her arms was Eldarion, whom Aragorn had failed to put to bed. Running across the hall (which looked somewhat dishevelled, but Arwen did not notice) she flung herself into her father's arms, squashing Eldarion, who promptly began to bawl.

"This is Eldarion ada." Arwen announced happily. "We named him after you. Aragorn said it was like naming a cute little kitten after smelly old fat dog but I had my way in the end. Aren't you proud?"

"Yes Arwen," Elrond managed to say "Tell me, is it true that you are responsible for the current state of Imladris?"

Arwen's eyes filled with tears. Giving her father the puppy eyes look, she began to sob. "How can you say that ada? I would never do this. It was all Haldir's fault. He made me do it, not that I did it of course, but how can you..." Arwen rushed out crying.

"Yes it was her." Elrond concluded. "But that doesn't mean I am any less angry with you." Here he turned to Elladan. Elrond paused and looked round at his hall. To his surprise, most of Middle Earth seemed to be there; Gandalf standing on the high table, still looking immensely proud of himself, Radagast sprawled across one of the only other tables that was still upright and Celeborn was trying to comfort a distressed Galadriel who had a baby hobbit round her neck.

Over in the corner Aragorn was explaining to Eomer that Elrond wasn't really his father, so it was quite alright for him to marry Arwen, as she wasn't really his sister. King Thranduil was singing a hideous love song, oblivious to what was going on. The former ring bearer was sobbing in a corner, whining about no one caring. The famed Eyown was flirting with the captain of Gondor, (which was allowed, as they were married). The only person who wasn't there was Glorfindel, which to Elrond, said a _lot_.

Idril, fearing her father's wrath would lead to the death of her brother, quietly walked over to her fuming parent and laid a hand on his arm.

Elrond's snapped round, his eyes piercing. "Yes?" he snarled, momentarily forgetting she was actually his daughter so he should really be nice to her.

"My Lord," Idril said carefully, "Prince Legolas of Mirkwood is very sick. He desperately needs your aid. No one here, not even Lady Galadriel knows what ails him." This of course was a downright lie, but Idril was not going to admit it.

Glaring at her, but secretly very thankful that she had provided him with a reason not to kill Elladan immediately (Elrond was really very soft at heart), and have the excuse of forgetting about it later, he allowed Idril to lead him out of the hall.

Elladan breathed a sigh of relief. His father's rage would not be nearly so acute tomorrow. Then he remembered that he had left his father's diary on his father's desk in his father's study. He had been reading the funny bits out to anyone who would listen, and that was quite a few people. Swallowing hard, he knew that his father would first go to his study to find what herbs he needed for Legolas. Elladan looked at the she-elf who clung to him. It was going to be a very long night.


	17. The WMU

Many thanks for the reviews – much appreciated!

It has come to my notice that I have failed to top and tail each chapter with the obligatory disclaimer – so, here it goes.

Disclaimer: I obviously do not own any of the characters, lands, species etc of Middle Earth. They belong to someone else. If you don't know who that is it is a wonder that you have got this far.

Chapter 16 –Elrond's study.

Elrond had been pacing around his study for nearly four hours. He had forbidden anyone from disturbing him (on pain of death) and he was trying to work out what the best course of action would be. If he sent the dwarves home he would be seen as uncivil and blatantly rude. If he let them stay, then everyone would think he was insane. If he allowed the stupid hobbits to remain in his home there would be a famine, and if he sent them home then he would have to put up with a whining Frodo complaining about him not caring.

There were far too many people here in general, and it didn't reflect well on him, as he couldn't act as dutiful host to all of them at once _and_ they were drinking all his wine. The mere presence of the obtuse men of Rohan and Gondor was enough to make him wish he'd never been born. He could get no sense out of Galadriel, as she and Arwen who were totally blind to everything except the WMU which they had co-created with that meddlesome hobbit missus. Gandalf, who admittedly had never been in full possession of his sanity had now totally cracked and was spending all his time making fireworks. Thranduil was as usual oblivious to everything except his awful love songs. To add insult to injury, his cat (which usually was a good source of solace) had taken to spitting at anyone that came anywhere near it. Elladan had denied all knowledge of why this could be which made Elrond incredibly suspicious.

Legolas was also a cause for concern. The stupid elf was very depressed for no apparent reason, and to make matters worse he had taken up singing awful love songs which rivalled that of his fathers. It was evidently something of a weak blood that ran in the family. As the WMU were getting more and more interfering with the running of everyones' lives they had taken it upon themselves to cure Legolas from whatever his problem was which obviously meant that they had offloaded it onto him. Elrond sometimes regretted that he had spent centuries learning all the healing lore Middle Earth possessed, sometimes cases were hopeless and should simply be labelled as such.

Being blessed with what men and hobbits called wisdom, elves called common sense and what dwarves called 'being soft in the head' Elrond was beginning to wonder if anyone else was going to arrive. Most of the important people of Middle Earth were already staying in his home, eating all the stores of his house and drinking the cellars dry, but there were a few others who might show up. For one thing, the elves from the Grey Havens had not arrived.

"But then," Elrond mused to himself as he paced around the room, watched by a very wary cat, "I was there, so there is no way that any message could have reached Lord Cirdan without me knowing."

Much to Elrond's annoyance, his meditation on the subject was interrupted. A firm knock sounded at the door. Debating on whether or not he should ignore it Elrond reached for the nearest wine decanter, to find his personal diary lying on his desk. He knew full well it had not been left there. He also had a very shrewd idea of whom had put it there.

Idril was becoming more and more annoyed. She had been trying to get into her father's study for nearly four hours, to tell him some more very important guests from the Grey Havens had arrived, that the Mirkwood King had managed to drop a large trunk on someone's roof in the grand scheme of moving the trees around, that the dwarves had discovered a forgotten wine cellar and that Elladan had not been seen since last night. Typically, Elrond had locked the door of his study, so getting in was impossible.

Wondering if she should go around and climb through the window, Idril caught sight of a familiar blonde male elf coming towards her. Idril found she could not run, there was a locked door and a wall in the way and doubtless if she did attempt to run Elrond would ask her in if she did, and then demand why she was wasting his precious time knocking on doors and then running away. Trying to keep a straight face she gave Legolas a brief smile and asked if he had seen Gimli.

Legolas however, did not hear the question. Walking over to her, he clasped her hands in his and politely asked if she was in good health (this was something that Rosie had taught him. "If in doubt Legolas," she had said as spokesperson for the WMU, "Ask after their health and then make pretty comments on the weather. You can't go far wrong with that.").

Idril, who had been expecting some awful love song in which he compared her to fish, was very surprised. It was pleasant to see that he was finally moving away from the awful traits of the Greenleaf family, but he still wasn't trying hard enough. After all, elves never become ill. Or at least, most sane elves didn't. Deciding to let him down as easily as possible, Idril gave a deep sigh, as though she was deeply troubled.

"Oh Legolas," she sighed, "I am undone." (Legolas' eyes flickered, wondering what on earth she meant) "I am at a loss, I know not which way to go. Will you aid me?"

Nod was all the love-smitten elf could do, a large slightly lop-sided smile spreading across his face.

"My dear elf!" Idril cried hugging a delighted Legolas "I knew I could count on you! My dear prince," here Idril hastily let go of the Mirkwood prince just in case he got too excited, and brushed imaginary tears from her eyes, "My dearest love is lost. I cannot find him anywhere! What am I to do? Will you find him for me? I am, alas, too weary to continue in my search for him. Alas dear prince, what am I to do!"

This dramatic scene did not go unheard by Elrond. However, Elrond being half-elven, and not having quite the same hearing as true elves, he missed some of the crucial statements made by Idril. From what he heard, Idril was deeply in love with Legolas. Legolas was obviously in love with her, so surely the wedding would be soon! That was why everyone was here!

Smiling happily Elrond did not notice that the wine decanter (that had been full an hour ago) was now empty. Instead of summoning a servant to refill he reached for his diary in order to record the latest instalment of the 'Idril saga.'

_In the slightly sorry-looking gardens of Imladris_

Cirdan was extremely annoyed, so much to the extent he was grumpily stomping around a garden _and_ a fishpond. Elrond had summoned him to Imladris for no real reason, he had said nothing of this whilst he had been in the Grey Havens, all he had received was a scrawled note demanding him to come immediately to Imladris, and now, when he had finally arrived, the host was refusing to see people. Some 'King' was singing awful songs about people dancing naked in circles around trees, meeting people, falling in love and then singing even more songs about elves dancing naked around more trees. There were a lot of stumpy people around, some of which were far too small to be dwarves. One of them seemed to have taken up residence in Lady Galadriel's hair, but then she always had had odd tastes.

On one of his circuits of the garden, Cirdan nearly walked into a she-elf who looked so like Elrond she had to be his very close kin. However, it wasn't Arwen. Elladan and Elrohir did not have children. Elros had died a long time ago, so it could not be one of his. By process of elimination, she either was an unknown daughter of Elrond, or she was nothing to do with him. Cirdan decided on the former. He knew Elrond well enough to know that such things were not impossible, even if it was frowned on by some old-fashioned people.

Idril quickly regained her composure after nearly walking into the Shipwright, and giving a slight nod not giving him time to ask awkward questions, she hurried off, mentally kicking herself for talking to Legolas about having lost her true love. Needless to say, he had taken it totally the wrong way and had assumed that she meant him being her lost lover.

After she had successfully climbed up the vine that grew beneath Elrond's window, Idril sat on the balcony rail, wondering if her father would actually notice she was there. It was at this moment Idril saw Legolas talking to Elrond, and by the look on Legolas' face, she did not want to have anything to do with what they were saying.

"She is the most beautiful creature I have ever met, my Lord," Legolas was saying with far more manners than was usual. "I cannot begin to tell you how much she means to me."

"And why are you coming to me about this Legolas? What makes you think she is anything to do with me?" Elrond replied somewhat haughtily, knowing full well why Legolas was telling him this.

Legolas though about this. It would not do to slight the Lady in any way. "She seems to have no parents, my Lord," he said with some consideration. "So I presumed that you were thus acting as her guardian, or at least her protector."

"Yes, I suppose you could call me that," Elrond said dreamily, quite pleased with the way Legolas had phrased it. There were some ugly rumours floating around Imladris, no doubt the result of his Elladan's woman's institution-like thinking. "So what exactly am I meant to do?"

"I beg you," Legolas said, after some consideration and falling to his knees, "To let me marry her. The sun is not bright, her eyes are my only light, I will hence call nothing fair unless it is her beauty. Her eyes, her stunning hair, my Lord…"

Elrond sensibly cut Legolas off, knowing that he could happily go on for hours. It was rather a good idea, after all, Legolas _was _a prince, even if he was a stupid one. It would also get her out of the way. Despite the fact that Idril was a respectful and dutiful daughter perhaps she was living slightly too close for comfort. Especially with Galadriel around.

"Well Legolas," Elrond began, "I …"

"I knew it! I knew you'd see it! I knew you'd agree! Oh happy day!" Legolas proceeded to jump around the room like a crazed animal, shrieking wildly about the maiden he was deeply in love with.

_Mine II Entrance A (Dwarven reckoning)_

Idril was contented for the first time that day. She had given up listening to Elrond and Legolas when she heard Legolas start ranting about how beautiful she was. She now was sitting next to Gimli, her head resting on her hands, listening to him telling anyone who would listen about his achievements in the war of the Ring. Dwarven ale was being passed around (Idril could not understand why Elrond had forbidden the importing of the brew – it was far more inspiring than anything the elven cellars' possessed). Several other dwarves had sat down to listen and marvel at the stupidity of Legolas, the brilliance of Gimli, the insaneness of the hobbits and the common sense of the love-sick Aragorn (who according to Gimli, did nothing except sit around singing silly songs about Arwen).

"At Helm's Deep, I had to fight next to Legolas, who was stupid enough to challenge me to a competition to kill the most orcs. Legolas says he can use a bow, but it turned out that was not the case. Actually, Legolas simply stood there, thinking no doubt that if he smiled and fiddled with his hair the orcs would fall dead at his feet. This meant that, I had to double the amount of fighting, as Legolas was unable to tear himself away from playing with his hair. I don't know why I bothered, the world would be a better place without him." Gimli smiled and looked sideways at Idril, who was happily thinking of what could have happened had Gimli not decided to keep Legolas for a pet.

This earned him a cheer from the dwarves. Idril gave a deeply satisfied sigh, happy enough for the minute that someone shared her view of Legolas being more of a waste of space than his father.

_Library IVa (Elrond's reckoning)_

Aragorn was happily sitting in one of the many libraries of Imladris, leafing through one of the many volumes on Gondorian history. It made him very proud to think that he too would be named in these books as the King who defeated Sauron, had re-forged Narsil into something totally different, had married an elf-princess and had befriended the heroic hobbits of the Shire. Humming a chivalrous elven battle-song to himself Aragorn rose and walked over to the nearest balcony.

Imladris stretched out below him; its beauty never failed to catch the breath in his throat, its peace brought joy to his burdened soul (being a King was much more stressful than anyone seemed to think these days) and its splendour made him feel as though he was one of the Elven Kings of old. Giving a deep sigh, Aragorn began to remember about living here as a boy, all those years ago. He enjoyed remembering things like that. So deep in thought was he that he did not notice Arwen, Galadriel and Rosie walk into the room.

Galadriel sat down and happily began to pour the tea that had been laid out for them. Once this task was complete, she put her hand to her head with an air of exhaustion. "Did you ever see such a dreadful taste in clothes?" Galadriel cried in desperation. "To think my daughter was his mother! It has to be an _insult_!"

"Elladan did look dreadful last night," Rosie commented. "But then again, he did make a wonderful speech. It was very inspiring to say the least."

"Surely I told you it wasn't his work?" Arwen said hastily "Idril wrote it. She's very good at speech writing. Maybe we should employ her."

"She isn't a working mother yet, though." Galadriel pointed out, "And I don't think she has any plans as yet…" Galadriel trailed off, with a gleam in her eye.

"Well?" Rosie demanded, trying not to sound too rude.

"She did seem awfully interested in Legolas. When the fellowship passed through my lands a few years ago, Idril never stopped talking about them."

Rosie gave a cry of delight. "Then we must conspire to get them together! They would be such a sweet couple! Even if Legolas sometimes acts like a demented troll."

"Yes," Arwen said dryly, "but he certainly doesn't look like one, and very few people would have the nerve to call a Prince that. I'm not so sure that Idril is as interested as you say."

"Nonsense!" Galadriel said, annoyed at being contradicted by her own granddaughter, "But if it is true, then we should make an effort to get her to see how charming he is."

"Why don't we lock her in a tower, so Prince Charming can rescue her?" Arwen had always loved fairy stories. It was her idea of true love, that a handsome prince would come riding out of a forest to rescue a damsel in distress. Alas that Aragorn had never done so.

"Now that is a good idea!" Rosie exclaimed with wicked delight. "It is so romantic that it will certainly be put into song, so generations to come will all hear about it."

"Well, how about we use the North East tower?" said Galadriel, "That one's empty at present." Galadriel knew it was empty for a reason. The walls were crumbling, the paint work was peeling and the draughts were terrible. Even in the Summer. Galadriel knew it, because Elrond had unwittingly put her and her husband up there, the last time they'd visited. Erestor and Glorfindel had been unable to keep straight faces throughout their stay.

"A splendid notion!" said Arwen. "I'll look into getting that done immediately. We can hire in some heavies to kidnap Idril, and we'll hide all the keys so that Legolas must use his brain to get her out."

They sat staring at each other. The very first activity of the WMU! How easy it seemed! This was women power at it's best! The awe-struck silence was broken by Rosie.

"Right, I'll add that to the minutes and pencil it in for a priority spot on next meeting's agenda, assuming there are no objections?" Neither of the others spoke, so Rosie continued, "I nominate Lady Arwen to look into the feasibility of the project, and for her to report back for the next meeting which we've scheduled for tomorrow. Does that sound alright?"

Arwen nodded happily, but Galadriel wasn't so impressed, "Surely with a matter as urgent as this we should put a new emergency meeting in for this afternoon?"

"Good point" said Rosie, "There is no point to action, unless it is rapid action. Operation Hitch-Idril-Up must be completed as soon as possible. The Lady Arwen will investigate our options immediately after this meeting, whilst myself and Galadriel will go for lunch.." here the hobbit licked her lips, "… and we'll reconvene here for a two – no better make that a three - o'clock. How does that sound Arwen?

Arwen fidgeted. "Truth is, I did have a few things planned for this afternoon. I was going to walk the gardens with Aragorn, there's this spot under one of those weeping willows where we always like to .." she paused and blushed.

"Oh you mean that little recess behind that statue of the king with the droopy beard?" interrupted Galadriel, amiably helping her granddaughter out, "I must admit to have always liked the look of that place."

"Indeed," Arwen continued, warming to the subject, "Out in the open, nice fresh air, the waterfall provides such nice background music and as for the romantic sound of the fountains! The only problem is the statue. I feel as though we're being watched."

"You could always turn your backs to it. That's what Celeborn and I used to do in Lothlorien, when we were…" here the Queen also paused, not wishing to corrupt her fellow WMU members anymore than they already were. "Well anyway, the statues there are even more hideous than the ones that my son-in-law insists on having around here."

"Ladies! Ladies!" said Rosie, feeling she was getting lost in the conversation, "Let us not be distracted from our aims by the mere talk of men!"

"You are quite right my dear" said Arwen, "Aragorn will have to wait, that's all. I'll be here for three, with all the things we'll be likely to need."

"Excellent!" said Galadriel, "Let's move on! We need to elect ourselves a chairwomen." She tossed her mane of golden hair and glanced round at the others.

_Library IVa balcony (Elrond's reckoning)_

Aragorn had listened to everything under the cover of darkness of his corner and had become more and more bemused as the conversation had gone on. It amazed him that the Lady of Lothlorien and the Queen of Gondor (his own wife) could be so unbelievably stupid about such pointless things. For goodness' sake, if Legolas loved Idril, he'd go and tell her!

The only part that wasn't so hilarious was his wife being happy to forgo the company of her husband to attend another of these blasted meetings. That made Aragorn think that getting her home and away from this stirring hobbit should be thought about, sooner rather than later. The gardens in Gondor were reasonable enough at any rate.

Deciding he'd heard enough, he crept around the wall to get to the room's only door. The WMU didn't notice him. So engrossed in their discussion about whether it should be chairelf or chair person, they failed to see the former Ranger slip out of the room to the safety of the corridor, where, once out of earshot, he collapsed in fits of laughter.


	18. A Fairer Race

Chapter 17

Elrond had in hand one of Bilbo's many books. Bilbo had come to him the previous day asking if he would be so kind as to read through it to check there were no mistakes about the elves in it. Knowing the old hobbit well, Elrond didn't agree because he wanted to help Bilbo's literary skills, he read it to make sure what was written was fit for the public eye. Bilbo had always had little respect for Elven nobility, a trait that grown as he had aged in the company of them, all at Elrond's expense. Doubtless he would insult the race of his host at every opportunity.

"It is well known in all corners of Middle Earth that the elves are a very mystical race, holding many secrets and the power to command nature. In all of the legends of old, the elves always feature, usually as the heroes. They fight all evils without quaking, they bravely march off to battle, heedless of loosing their immortal life. Elves are known for their wisdom, their healing skills and their command of life. They can charm birds out of the trees, the timid deer of the woods will approach them fearlessly and even the trees of the forests obey them. Ancient myth tells of the elves being the firstborn race. They were, according to the tales, the first race to sing. Ever since they had realised their talents for music, the elves have hardly ever stopped singing, dancing and writing down their history in song."

Elrond paused. This wasn't right at all. Bilbo hadn't written anything displeasing. Valar knew he'd had the opportunity in that passage. Maybe the stupid old hobbit was learning to respect his hosts! Elrond was actually smiling as he started to read the next part.

"What is not so well know is the weaknesses of the elves. Most races attribute elves with perfection, which is understandable as they have eternity to perfect their flaws. Prince Legolas of Mirkwood is living proof of this not being true (as are – incidentally – most of his family). But where their problem truly lies is in their stupid ideas about romance and true love. For one thing, elves believe in soul-mates. This poses the problem of being stuck with one's spouse for eternity. It ought to be said at this point that even Lord Elrond, who is considered mighty amongst both men and elves, was unable to cope with only one partner for eternity. No one actually knows for certain who the actual Lady was but Lady Idril is the obvious result of Elrond not being the respectable Lord he is always thought to be."

Here, the reader snarled. Why did everyone think Idril was his child? Well, fair enough she looked like him; and equally fair enough, he was her father – but why on earth did people jump to such conclusions? Didn't they have the bloody Middle Earth history as proof that making bold assumptions like that was a grave mistake? How had that dirty old hobbit got hold of such an idea? Elrond sighed, and whilst distractedly fishing for a pen in one of his desk drawers with which to add some 'corrections', he continued to read the section he'd been asked to look over.

"Elves adore dancing around trees. They also enjoy singing very silly songs about dancing around trees, meeting their true loves, falling deeply in love, and then dying of broken hearts when they realise that their true love is not elven, but doomed to die so they all die as a result. It is often wondered by the observer how anything is actually completed. So hard is it to tear the elves away from their dancing and singing that very little in the way of war, story-telling, healing, heroic deeds and proper romance ever takes place. It is now time to amend the old legends of the elves and reveal their true characters."

Elrond stopped. This would have to be destroyed. He had never read something so insulting. The fact that this mere hobbit had dared to insult himself and his race showed that maybe he was loosing his control over Middle Earth. Certainly, in the old days, no one would even dare say such scandalous lies about himself and his kindred.

Muttering some extremely rude things involving hobbits competing in the undertaking of numerous gratuitous acts under his breath, Elrond put the book down and returned to some of the more pressing matters. The report on his desk gave detail as to how the dwarves had managed to dig another 'cave' under Gimli's guidance and now his favourite garden was in total disarray. Well, actually his second favourite garden. His most treasured part was the little depression behind the statue of the king with the droopy beard. It had been his wife's favourite place too. He'd even taken Idril's mother there once or twice…

Banishing such thoughts from his head, he heard a knock at the door. Praying silently that it would not be a tourist from Gondor looking for a souvenir, or a dwarf asking for more wine, or a hobbit complaining, he called out for the knocker to enter.

Arwen swept into her father's study with a look of extreme delight on her face. She had decided to ask for the key to the north-west tower first, before Elrond heard of any other of her odd actions in preparation for operation hitch up Idril.

"Hello ada," Arwen said as sweetly as she could, "How are you today?"

"Yes?" Elrond responded dryly. He knew his daughter well enough to know she wanted something. Usually it was permission to break rules. "What do you want?"

Arwen looked upset. Ever since she had got back, her father had been less than civil to her. He had flatly refused to look after Eldarion, and he had even been heard to say that he would be glad to leave Middle Earth. Her mother had once told her that tears were the best weapon a she-elf possessed. Remembering this came just at the right moment.

"Why do you have to be so mean ada?" Arwen started to sob, "I've missed you dreadfully, I haven't recovered from having Eldarion. You seem to do nothing except ignore me. Anyone would think that you didn't love me." With that, the Queen of Gondor began to weep, and, deciding against singing a lament about death, she waited for her father's reaction.

"Arwen," Elrond said with a sigh, knowing he hadn't been very nice to her, but also knowing she was being all that genuine, "Can you really blame me? You invited all these people here without even asking me, and now you are annoyed that I am not acting as the dutiful host."

Arwen scrunched up her face in a manner not dissimilar to Eldarion. "It wasn't me! It was Legolas or Aragorn. It was quite likely Elladan. He always was the naughty one amongst us children. It might have even been Haldir, he's been very rude to Galadriel you know."

"Arwen please," Elrond managed to get a word in, "What's done is done, I can only hope they don't all stay too long. Meanwhile, was there something you wanted me for?"

Arwen sniffed and decided to ignore her father's uncivil manner. The WMU matter was far more important than a grumpy father. "Galadriel would like the key to the North East tower, it's very important she said." Hoping her father would not ask too many questions, Arwen smiled sweetly up at him.

"Do I even want to know why, Arwen?" Elrond looked sceptically down at his daughter, wondering what in Middle Earth his mother in law wanted with the North East tower.

"I am not sure myself ada," Arwen replied, "but I'm sure that you will find out soon enough."

Deciding it would be in his best interest to give her the key so he could go back to his work, Elrond handed it over, kissed his daughter's forehead and told her he was very busy so please could she leave. Arwen didn't need to be asked, once the key was in her hand she gave her father a delighted hug and then bounded out the door.

Elrond sighed. To think that she was the Queen of Gondor. Brushing such trivial matters aside the Lord of Imladris returned to more important things.

_The WMU headquarters. _

"So what you want us to do," Gimli asked Arwen after nearly half an hour's discussion, "Is to put Idril in the North East tower?"

"Yes, that's basically it," Arwen said in an exasperated manner –really dwarves were so dim- "But you have to do it so that no one notices. The most important thing to do is to surprise Idril, so she doesn't make too much noise. You may have to gag her."

"And how are we meant to creep up on an elf?" The King of the Lonely Mountain demanded. "Are you suggesting that we could actually walk up to them without them noticing? I mean, we are clever, but our intelligence is not in keeping quiet."

"Quite the opposite if you ask me," an infuriatingly smooth voice said from behind a statue. Haldir walked in, and, to the annoyance of everyone grasped Arwen's hand and kissed it rapturously. When Arwen snatched her hand back, he shrugged easily and blandly continued, "My dearest, do you really think that a dwarf could capture an elf? What you really want is a team of elves. Elves like me."

Arwen was fuming. No one in Gondor ever treated her to casually. Had Aragorn seen this it would have been a case of hanging, or at the very least a good thrashing. She slapped Haldir across the face. Then, realisation dawned on her that this irritating, prancing blockhead of an elf could be useful.

Addressing the whole company, Arwen drew herself up to her full height. "Right, I don't care who does it, I don't care how you do it, but Idril must be in the North East tower by midday tomorrow. No one must notice you doing it, and you must do it quietly. Is that clear?"

"Am I allowed to stay in there with her?" Haldir immediately asked.

"Do we lock her in there?"

"Does it matter what we wear whilst we do it?"

"Do we tie her up?"

"Can I gag her please?" also came from Haldir.

"How much are you paying us for this?" demanded a dwarf.

Arwen was beginning to wonder if this was such a good idea after all. Certainly these 'intelligent' dwarves were not quite as bright as they made out to be.

Taking a deep breath, Arwen explained for the fourth time.

_Mirkwood Tree: BeardTree_

King Thranduil was happily sitting beneath one of the trees that he had planted. The tree he had decided to name Beard Tree, in memory of the valiant Treebeard. In his hand the King had a harp, and he was lazily plucking out a love tune that had been in his family for generations. Humming along, the King saw a very pretty elf maid coming towards him. She also looked extremely like Elrond - features that in any other case would have been mutually exclusive. In fact, she looked so much so that the rumours he had heard about a mysterious 'Idril' really had to be true. Grinning wickedly, the King began to sing a song that Galadriel had sent his son during the events leading to the destruction of the ring. He changed the lyrics slightly, so as to include Idril in them.

"Legolas Greenleaf long under tree;

In joy thou hast lived. Beware of Idrilee!

If thou hearest the cry of Idril in song

Then thy shall not be a bachelor for long

Although Idril felt very sick (this song was nearly as bad as the ones Legolas sang) she had to tell the King something, and if she could get the message across, it would be worth it.

"My Lord, please forgive me for interrupting your singing," Idril coughed politely.

"My dearest Lady," the King leapt to his feet, harp discarded, song forgotten; "You are unwell, how might I aid you? You need a healer? Shall I escort you to your room? Shall I-"

"My Lord please, there is nothing wrong, I just wish to ask a favour of you," Idril tried very hard to keep the annoyance out of her voice. Evidently the stupidity of Legolas was a family trait.

"But your cough my dearest Lady," the King cried, quite distressed at the prospect of having to hand her over to the healers. Already, Thranduil was forming the beginning of a lament in his mind about a Lady who died from illness before declaring undying love for her true love, and so romantic hopes and dreams were unfulfilled. "You are most unwell, I cannot permit you to remain out here. You must retire to your chamber, unless of course you want some company?"

Idril's skin was crawling. Gloin had been right, this family was awful. Worse than awful. Deciding to have another try, Idril slapped the King across the face, making a mental note to apologise to Elrond about it later.

"My Lord, please excuse me but I _am not ill. _All I want you to do is to convey a message to your son Legolas. Will you tell him that I want him-"

"You are the Lady he has been ranting about? You are the one that is to marry my son? You are going to be my daughter in law? Oh, I must go and compose a joyful song of praise!" With that, the Mirkwood King gathered up his harp danced off, happily singing to himself about lovely maidens dancing around trees and falling in love, and surprisingly enough, dying of broken hearts.

Idril watched the King dance off. An ominous feeling of despair settled over her. Why was it that everyone seemed convinced that she returned the half-wit's attempts at romantic feelings? Something had to be done, and done soon, otherwise she'd find herself at the altar with a blonde Greenleaf as the groom. Maybe a display with Gimli in public would sort things out.


	19. Fireworks

Chapter 18

Elladan was sitting in one of King Thranduil's recently planted trees. He was most unhappy. Despite the birds singing their hearts out and the roses smelling sweetly there was a black cloud that would not move from his mind. Ever since his father's return he had been forced to live a life of secrecy, in part to avoid Elrond's wrath, which after three days showed no sign of abating. To make matters worse Elrond's anger seemed to have been picked up by everyone visiting Imladris, and the recently found respect he had wielded whilst bringing Legolas to justice had scattered like dust on the wind.

Few of the visitors whom he had been unfortunate to meet in the past day had shown much deference for him, Arwen was far too busy to consort with inferior beings such as her brothers (as were the rest of the WMU), and as if to add insult to injury, Idril was allowing herself to be courted by a dwarf. Aragorn who could usually be relied upon to provide light relief in one way or another seemed to be spending all his time looking after a small squealing infant which now had learnt to spit out anything Elladan fed it.

There were rumours also of the WMU planning something which might outshine the fabled expected party before Bilbo's exodus from the Shire. This could pose a problem due to the fact that Elrond had had enough surprises to last him for the rest of his immortal life. Doubtless when whatever the WMU had in mind failed it would all be blamed on him again.

He had not been drunk for nearly three days, and as a result, was having the standard Elven symptoms of withdrawal. Such trivial matters as a half sister consorting with a dwarf began to fade into nothingness. All he could think of was wine. Lots of it.

Mercifully, other beings – although of a lesser race admittedly - were trying to put the world of women to rights.

_The "Romantic" Glade_

"I just don't understand her," Eomer complained to a companionable Aragorn. "She desperately wanted to get rid of me and now she wants me to go back with all speed to Rohan. I've only just got here!"

"Brother," Aragorn said to his fellow-King, with an expression of deepest wisdom "I know exactly how you feel. That's why I brought the wife with me."

"But she'd have joined the WMU, just like your stupid wife!" Eomer knew Aragorn too well to know that he wouldn't raise any objection to such a description of his queen, "You know she would have done! And then they'd be conspiring against us!"

"There isn't a lot you can do about them." Aragorn concluded after a moment's pause. "The race of women is a mystery. They take great pleasure in such pointless things." And then, thinking it might cheer Eomer up a bit, Aragorn told him of the latest plans of the WMU he had overheard that morning.

This made Eomer even more agitated. "You mean I'm stuck with a woman who does this all the time!? For the rest of my life, my wife will be trying to hitch up other people without paying me any attention!" Eomer was getting hysterical. "I should have remained single, or at least not shown any interest in women!"

"My friend, I too, am late in realising the benefits of homosexuality," Aragorn said wryly. "Sadly due to the nature of our positions as ruling monarchs we must carry the burden of procreation which despite all elvish wisdom still requires consorting with the female sex."

Due to the stupidity of the WMU, Arwen had practically lost interest in Eldarion, meaning that he had to look after his son nearly all the time. This annoyed the King. Surely someone of such a notable rank as himself should not have to do what was obviously a feminine task. All he could hope for was that there would be no more children. "Not much hope in that even" he though darkly, "What with her skipping our appointment behind the statue with the beard and all." Then he realised how he could cheer his fellow king up.

"You have one major advantage over me though of course," Aragorn commented, "Your little squealing brat isn't here. Mine is."

Eomer looked at Aragorn. "If I go home, she'll make me look after it. If I stay here, she'll skin me when I get home, if I never go home she'll hunt me down and…" Eomer was now showing symptoms of a nervous breakdown.

Glorfindel watched this small meeting of minds from his perch in one of the King of Mirkwood's trees – one of the ones that was miraculously still the right way up. On reflection, it did seem a familiar trait that all married males of all races suffered from an unstable mind. The more he thought of this, the more he could see it. Elrond had been so traumatised Idril had appeared. Thranduil was living proof. Celeborn was also insane. So was Sam. Faramir had (according to Aragorn) been this way ever since he met Eowyn. It was in this moment Glorfindel decided that matrimony was not for him. He'd always been sure that he'd had the lisp for some reason…

_Elrond's Drawing Room_

"Why is my husband so insupportive?" Galadriel cried, sinking into a chair in the rather nice drawing room of Elrond's they had designated their own. "All I did was to ask him to keep an eye on Legolas-,"

"Who is suffering deeply. He is finding keeping his feelings to himself very difficult," Arwen put in matter-of-factly.

"-who I was worried might give up on Idril, as we all know how coy she is, and he told me that he was going hunting with Cirdan, to get away from us!" Here the last Queen of Noldor east of the sea broke down in tears. "He used to say that he loved me!"

"There, there dear," Rosie put in soothingly "Men are all the same. They never say what they really feel as they think you'll think them soft and you know how tough they like to appear."

"He was probably being sar-cast-tic" Arwen said carefully, pleased to have remembered a word Aragorn had used, not that she knew what it meant, "Anyway, how is the rest of our preparation going? I've hired the heavies to capture Idril and I've got the key to the tower."

Galadriel rose. "Then lets go and have a look in it. It needs to be a romantic room." Remembering what it had looked like last time she had been in there, she did not hold out much hope of it being the perfect place for a dramatic rescue to take place.

"It must have a nice view from the window," Arwen put in, such things were very romantic to her.

"And a nice big bed!" Galadriel exclaimed, and then looking at her WMU members who looked a little shocked, "So Idril can pretend that she's been asleep for one hundred years and needs a kiss from her handsome prince."

"And a harp, so Legolas can sing love songs to her." Rosie grimaced at the thought of more Legolas love songs.

"It must take place at twilight, all romantic things happen then. I met Aragorn at twilight. It might not have been quite the worst thing that ever happened to me, but still, he was quite romantic about it." Arwen's voice had turned quite husky.

"I met my Sam whilst he was pulling up carrots down on a field by the Lane in Hobbiton" said Rosie happily, "He said 'There's things I'd rather be pulling' if you please!"

Arwen simply squealed with delight, "And what did you say to him?" she asked when she'd got her breath back.

"Ladies, ladies" said Galadriel, "Let us go and inspect the premises."

Not even the elvish hearing of Galadriel or Arwen heard the stifled giggles that came from behind one of the chairs as the WMU swept out of the room. Before the door had swung shut after them, Merry and Pippin had already dissolved into fits of laughter.

_Borders of Imladris_

Idril had never been so angry in her entire life. Everyone thought that she was deeply in love with Legolas. Elrond had even given Legolas his permission for him to marry her, Thranduil was arranging the wedding, Aragorn collapsed with laughter every time he saw her, Haldir simply stared at her with an open mouth every time she was unfortunate enough to see him and the only sensible female company (i.e. Galadriel, Arwen and Rosie) could never be found. Not even the stupid hobbits were a distraction, as although they were generally annoying everyone they could find, they had mysteriously disappeared and according to the cooks had not even been in the kitchens.

After walking around the entire borders of Imladris four times in one day (it took a normal elf four days to complete one circuit) in an attempt to get away from everyone, Idril became so bored she could bear it no longer. Deciding to brave the fray, she made her way back into the grand halls of her father.

"Idril my love!" A silky voice called to her the minute she had walked into the entrance of Elrond's quarters, "Where have you been? I've been looking for you all day, I've written a new song for you, would you like to hear it?" Legolas danced over to her with a grin plastered over his face. Seizing her hands in his, Legolas kissed her cheek and began to sing.

Realising that this had been a stupid idea, Idril tried to wrench herself away from Legolas using every bit of strength she had - and every bit of foul language that she knew.

Legolas was totally unfazed.

"I like your game!" he cried, breaking off in mid song, "You are playing hard to get! You are testing my love by ignoring me, so as to discern whether or not I love you! Well my love, I assure you this lovely little game of yours will only make me love you more, so do not despair, I will never forsake you for another!"

This made Idril feel extremely sick.

"Oh my dearest Lady Idril," the love stricken Legolas continued, only to feel a knee in his groin. Squeaking with pain, he looked at Idril with a lop-sided smile on his face. "I will play your lovely little game dearest Idril, but don't forget," Here the blonde prince wagged a finger at her, "I play them very well, years of experience, you see."

Idril ran.

_A larger hall in Imladris_

Glorfindel was having a lovely time. He had forgiven Gandalf for not allowing him to defeat the balrog, after the wizard had promised him that he would do everything in his power to locate Celeborn's secret stash of wine. Never before had the golden-haired elf been allowed to be creative, and it seemed as though his amazing talents had been overlooked completely. For the past two days he had been dropping in on Gandalf, who had locked himself in one of the larger halls of Imladris, ignoring the annoyance of everyone else, and together they had been creating the ultimate firework. Glorfindel's lively imagination, combined with Gandalf's mind-blowing magic would produce the best fireworks ever seen. The only problem was, although they had created fireworks that acted like Balrogs, Dragons, Trolls, Ents, Eagles and even one of Sauron (Gandalf was hoping Aragorn would like to play the part of Isildur when that one was set off, although he had to convince him that his sword would not be harmed) they still had to come up with a masterpiece. A firework that was original. A firework that would remain in people's memories for eternity (or however long they happened to last).

After two days of endless researching, the problem sorted itself out. Legolas, bedraggled to the bone, had managed to climb in through one of the windows (which were only open to let the smoke out, as they had been trying out one or two of their favourites). The Mirkwood Prince, who appeared to be limping somewhat, though he assured both elf and wizard that his legs were in perfect condition, gave Glorfindel the perfect idea.

After giving Legolas a cake and sending him out, Glorfindel turned to Gandalf. Assuming his councillor to Elrond stance, he began to expand and explain his idea that Legolas had so kindly suggested by dropping in. Gandalf listened in rapped admiration.

"Everyone in Imladris who pays any attention to the local grapevine knows that Legolas and Idril are soon going to be married. Everyone also knows (with the exception of Legolas and Idril) that there is to be a dramatic rescue in the near future, which will prove to the world how deeply in love they are. The rescue will take place at twilight, which is when all romantic things happen. Afterwards, as the skies grow dark, the elves, men, hobbits, dwarves and any others will feast under the stars. All they needed to finish the evening is a firework display!"

"A surprisingly fine idea my blonde friend!" Gandalf was practically jumping around with glee. "But what shall we put in the firework?"

Glorfindel paused for a moment. "Can you make an exact copy of them in firework?"

Gandalf pondered, then, seeing the way the blonde was thinking, a wicked gleam came into his eye.

Without waiting for the wizard to respond, Glorfindel continued. "It could be a re-enactment of the rescue!"

Gandalf grimaced. "I will not put any of the Greenleaf love songs into my fireworks. My fireworks are quality produce. They are not awful screeching things that deafen everyone in the local vicinity."

"Maybe it could be a firework of enlightenment!" Glorfindel cried, delighted at his own pun. "Maybe it could teach him how to sing!"


	20. Hunting

Chapter 19

Elladan was exhausted. Having found a flagon of dwarven ale he had forgotten his previous misery and had allowed his mind to wander onto more interesting matters than the fact that no one seemed to like him any more. So Elladan had been chasing a nice looking blonde from Rohan whom he'd quite failed to recognise as being Eowyn. Surprisingly, she had been easily running out of arm's reach but only just ahead of him for nearly four hours, and still did not seem tired. Thinking that this stamina would make her an excellent wife for him (he always thought dirty in these situations), he continued in his pursuit, and taking a leaf out of a Greenleaf's book, he began to sing a merry love song at the same time.

"A maiden of Rohan there was,

Who never married because

She once met an elf

Which changed her inner self

She then could not see

Any male beyond me"

This had rapidly proved to be counterproductive and seemed to only annoy Eowyn further - as her ideas about hunky men were not people who ran around for hours singing gruesome love songs. Her ideal man was a dangerous fighter, a King of some important place, a ranger by trade, and, in a word, Aragorn, who suited those roles rather nicely. This one didn't even sport a broad sword, which in Eowyn's opinion was a fairly poor show of things.

Thinking it might be easiest to stop and face this insane elf and fight him, the former shield maiden of Rohan halted suddenly and drew her sword.

Elladan suddenly saw this elegant Lady halt and turn to face him. Thinking he had caught her interest at last he dashed over to her only to feel a heavy blow to the side of the head, stars appeared and then he passed out.

Eowyn sighed. All men were the same. None of them had any stamina.

_Elrond's Study _

"What is this Elrond!? Some form of humour?!" Cirdan had in hand a copy of Bilbo's book (courtesy of Erestor) and was fuming at Elrond about it. Bilbo had found some rumours of a story that had involved Cirdan the Shipwright with a few Ladies of negligible reputation. Filthy hobbit that he was, he had written every one of the different accounts in his book; he'd discussed them, analysed them, crossed them against each other to derive proof of key facts, and given marks out of ten. He had even somehow managed to squeeze some lewd jokes criticising aspects of the fairer race. The whole report was spread over eight of the three hundred and twenty four chapters in Bilbo's new book. Cirdan had been depicted as a sorry case of a sailor who never did anything except drink, gamble and sing.

Cirdan, naturally wishing to keep hold of his somewhat shaky reputation, couldn't see the funny side to this and was now complaining in the strongest possible terms.

"Why do you let that stupid hobbit stay here? Come to that, why do you let any of them stay here?" Cirdan had steam coming out his nostrils. "AND MORE TO THE POINT, WHY DID YOU ASK ME TO COME HERE?!"

Elrond was by now tired of Cirdan's complaints. The noble Shipwright had no sense of humour, nor did he have any respect for his host's hearing, which had taken several blows in the past few days. Before Elrond could make any reply, a knock sounded at the door, and Bilbo poked his head into the room.

"My dear sirs," he cried with a vast amount of enthusiasm, "How are you this fine day?" here the hobbit addressed Elrond, "I have come to inquire after my book. Perhaps you have not had time to read it, for I know that you are a very busy sort of person, and what with the grandson and the wedding of your other daughter coming up…" Bilbo winked at Cirdan in a knowing sort of way. "Which I believe the WMU are going to organise, according to my 'little birdies' who rarely get this sort of thing wrong you understand."

It was at this point that another knock resounded on the other door. Haldir and Legolas walked in dragging an unconscious Elladan by the legs. Dumping him on the hearth rug, they began to relate the strange tale to Elrond, who took no notice of his son. It was obvious to all present that the Master of Imladris was still annoyed about his unexpected house guests.

"It was odd," Legolas said with a hint of amusement, "He was running after this Rohan girl, who I think is called Eowyn. She fancied Aragorn for a while, and then, seeing as he was besotted with that…" Legolas paused, he had a great many reasons to dislike Arwen "..mindless, empty-headed, flirtatious, daddy's girl of a -"

"Beautiful daughter of yours," Haldir continued after subtly hitting Legolas, "Started running after Faramir."

"Anyway," Legolas took over again, remembering that being a Prince meant he was more important than a Warden of the March, and more importantly his hair was much nicer, "After four hours or so of running around, this blonde girl stops, draws her sword and hits him round the head with it. For no apparent reason either."

"Indeed," Haldir put in, looking deeply thoughtful, "'Twas a most perplexing mystery. Anyone watching would have though that she had finally given up and was going to fall into his arms, but no. Indeed no."

Elrond was amused. Evidently these wild shield maidens of Rohan had more to them than met the eye. Maybe he should pencil in a visit to them before he left Middle Earth.

Kicking Elladan in the ribs, Haldir smirked. "What an idiot. To think that she would go for someone like him. He doesn't even have blonde hair." Here Haldir tossed his own matted greasy locks and looked incredibly smug.

Grinning from pointed ear to pointed ear, Legolas looked up to see a vaguely annoyed Elrond. Hastily rethinking, he corrected his stupid friend's mistake. "What he means, Master Elrond, is that although your son has your good looks, he evidently doesn't have your superb intelligence. I mean, would you spend four hours chasing a woman, and then be dim enough to get hit around the head by her?"

"And more to the point," Bilbo put in, delighted to have found yet more silly doings of the elves to put in his book, "She is a married one as well. Lord Faramir will be ever so angry." He reached into his pocket and retrieved a pen and small notebook with which he started jotting down notes.

Haldir nodded in vicious agreement. "It will not do to tell him. Otherwise the son of our good host will be a stupid dead elf."

"We certainly cannot have that." Here the hobbit paused. "But it would make a brilliant start to chapter Ninety two."

Elrond laughed. Cirdan looked as though he could not quite decide as to delight in a dead Elladan or to be extremely annoyed at the total lack of respect that these stupid blonde elves were showing on top of the downright lies that the hobbit had spun about him. It was at this moment that Elladan began to show signs of life.

No one seemed even vaguely interested in him, so Bilbo took the matters into his own hands. Picking up the wine decanter which normally stood on Elrond's desk, before anyone could stop him, he proceeded to tip the contents of it over Elladan's head. This had the advantage of reviving Elladan considerably.

Shaking his head a couple of times, he looked around in a dazed fashion, trying to see who was in the room, but his vision had been a little damaged by the blow to the head. What he saw was a very little person standing over him, Eowyn standing beside him, and his father and mother standing beside the fireplace. It did not occur to him that his mother was in Valinor and Eowyn would not be anywhere near him. Taking hold of Haldir's leg, he kissed it rapturously, and he asked when their the wedding would be.

With a slight grunt, Elladan got up. Smiling very sweetly at a rather green-looking Haldir, he kissed his cheek and again asked when their wedding would take place.

Haldir reached for Bilbo's book that was on the table beside him and without hesitation he swung it at Elladan with all his might. The book connected with an already bruised Elladan, making him fall once more to the floor, knocking him out completely. Giving the elf a sharp kick in the ribs again, Haldir turned on his heel and stormed out, muttering darkly about how certain elves should not be allowed to cross the sea on any circumstances at all.

Elrond turned to Bilbo (who was once again scrawling notes down about how so many species had been completely deceived by the fairer race for many centuries) and politely requested that he leave his host in peace so that he might confer with Cirdan as to when he could sail from Middle Earth.

Grinning wickedly Bilbo headed off to the headquarters of the WMU.

_The North West Tower room_

Arwen was very excited, as were the rest of the WMU. The room had been greatly improved thanks to their ministrations, and now it looked the perfect place for a romantic rescue to take place. They had managed between them to make up a bed (not very successfully as Galadriel and Arwen had never done it before and Rosie was too small), the curtain had been removed so that the view could be seen from the bed, the harp that had been removed from Lindir's keeping had almost been tuned and they had found the perfect dress for Idril to wear.

The draught, the peeling paintwork and the spiders they had on consideration left, as it was agreed that if the room was _too_ romantic the happy couple would never want to leave it.

Smiling at her fellow WMU members, Arwen began to run over the plans again.

"So now that we've sorted the room out, we go and have afternoon tea, whilst the heavies are capturing Idril. Once she's caught we will subtly inform Legolas of his love's distress. He will then rescue her, she will fall madly in love with him and so they will all live happily ever after."

Galadriel and Rosie nodded. Smiling happily, they made their way back to their appointed meeting room for afternoon tea.

Merry and Pippin had taken it upon themselves to act as waiters to the WMU that afternoon, in the hope of food and gossip. Knowing that if they didn't go in disguise they would be recognised and sent away by Rosie, they had cunningly dressed up (with the help of Elrohir) as elf-children. The Ladies did not notice the hairy feet of the waiters. Nor did it occur to them that there had not been any elflings for an age. Later on, Bilbo – who'd paid heavily for their espionage services - would be overjoyed.

_The "Romantic" Glade_

Aragorn was sitting in one of the gardens, savouring a moment of peace, despite the absence of his beloved wife. He had decided that he could not be away from his Kingdom for more than another week, and his dear wife would have to come back to Gondor with him, lest she stay and be parted from him forever. A sudden thought crossed his mind. Would she, on return to Gondor, set up a working mother's union? If she was going to, then she evidently did not have enough to do. Maybe she could make herself more useful in the kitchens.

A sudden argument broke the peace of Imladris. Idril suddenly dashed past him as though she had a dragon on her tail.

"It wasn't my fault you stupid elf" Gimli bellowed. "You were meant to catch her, I was going to tie her up."

"You make too much noise," Haldir bellowed. "It was totally your fault. If you hadn't been here then she would have been mine."

"Shut up, damn elf," another dwarf snapped. "Yelling at us wont get her captured. She'll only run further.

"I'm not the one shouting!" An irate Haldir roared. "You're the ones who started it!"

Aragorn growled. He remembered the plans of the blasted WMU and it seemed that these imbeciles had been sent to catch Idril. Annoyed at having his peace ruined yet again, the King of Gondor, who had more names than the number of grains of sand upon the sea shore arose and decided to sort the argument out. After all, being as important as he was, everyone was bound to listen.

Walking over to the deranged dwarves and manic elf, the former ranger politely inquired as to what the argument was about.

Without any hesitation they told him.

An hour later, Aragorn managed to get a word in.

"May I offer my skills as a ranger?" Aragorn politely asked in the middle of another argument. "I was fortunate enough to see her run off. I know how to catch the maidens," here he gave a very sly grin, "I have had a lot of practise."

"That's how you won Arwen isn't it?" Haldir screeched in rage, "You made her jealous by flirting-"

"My dearest Haldir, jealousy is a very powerful weapon, and one maidens are highly prone to falling for." Aragorn gave him a dazzling smile. "Now do you want me to find this Idril or not?"

Gimli grunted in agreement. Haldir stuck out his bottom lip. "Only if I can tie her up."

_A Different Shady Grove_

Idril was beginning to wish she had never been part of inviting everyone here. She could go nowhere now without people flirting with her, asking her to marry, laughing at her (damn that stupid brother-in-law) or attacking her. Evidently Gimli didn't like her anymore.

Giving a deep sigh, she sank down onto a fallen tree. She had managed to escape her attackers, and was now in a shady grove of one of the woods surrounding the gardens, when Aragorn suddenly appeared.

Giving a polite smile, he asked after her health.

Idril looked sceptical. "I am more than somewhat annoyed at you, father, Legolas, the WMU and just about everyone else, but apart from that I am fine Aragorn. And would you do me the honour of telling me why you burst into fits of laughter every time you see me?"

Aragorn looked passive. He had spent the last ten minutes looking for her, (his ranger skills were still up to scratch) and all he now had to do was capture her (allowing Haldir to tie her up, though Gimli wanted to tie the knots), and then he could watch as Legolas was got several black eyes and the WMU got a rude awakening. He knew that if he made a mess of this he would be deprived of amusement that he had looked forward to for several days.

Sitting down beside her (slightly too near for Idril's taste) he gallantly told her that he had been told a dreadful falsehood about her, which he had found vastly amusing. He had, of course, found the source of this falsehood and had dealt with it accordingly. As a King his sense of justice and defence of Ladies was second to none. However, before then he had found the mere sight of her vastly amusing. Taking her hands in his, he asked her again if she was truly well, as she had not been seen for several days in the great halls of Imladris.

It was at this moment that Haldir leapt from the tree above her, knocking both ranger and maiden from their seat. Idril found her hands were tied, and before she could utter a sound, Gimli had rushed from under cover, and gagged her, shouting rude insults at Haldir, who had not let him tie the knots. Several other dwarves who were also in on the job rushed into the clearing doing a dwarven war dance. Idril was bagged up, and taken to the WMU.


	21. The Grass isn't Greener

Chapter 20

It is said that when elves have got bored enough of their lives in Middle Earth they sail across the sea in a dreamy sort of way to another world; a world that no other race can get to, that is at least ten times nicer than all of Middle Earth put together – being as it is, in a perpetual summer and there only being elves to socialise with.

This has unsurprisingly provoked an acute sense of jealousy from all the other races, but for different reasons. Men loathe it due to the elves being able to get away from dwarves for eternity, Dwarves know that there are untapped mithril and gold mines in abundance throughout the land, and the Hobbits feel it is most unfair that the elves are able to have green gardens all year around.

To elves who live for the day that they get away from Middle Earth (all of them), the Undying Lands (as referred to by elves – along with the usual dramatic sigh and a verse or two of poetry) is a place of eternal peace.

To elves who have lived the day that they got away from Middle Earth, there is nothing to really get excited about; all it is is a place where everything is always green, which can get a bit dull. Galadriel herself had been so totally sick of green after being there for a couple of years, had gone back to Middle Earth for a change of colour. In a land where the birds, bees, trees, houses and even other elves are green, Galadriel became green with envy that other Elves should be able to live in dangerous Middle Earth.

Celebrian was unlike her mother in many ways, but colour preference was something that they agreed on. She was also totally sick of green, and more over, she did not have her husband to shout at. Nor did she have her children to look after. All this resulted in a very bored Lady, so much to the extent that she had been looking for a good reason to leave for years.

Then Cirdan had arrived in Valinor one fine day saying that there was a reunion in Imladris for anyone who wanted to go and that he, Cirdan, was doing bulk discount return tickets to the Grey Havens in an effort to clear his monumental gambling debts.

This had been the perfect opportunity for her to get away from the green-land. Without hesitation, Celebrian had leapt aboard the ship and demanded that Cirdan take her for nothing as he was a friend of the family. Cirdan didn't have much choice because Celebrian knew more about his dirty dealings than the Elven courts would want to hear in their immortal lives.

And so Celebrian had set off, but much to her annoyance it had taken her several weeks to get back to Middle Earth. The navigator had not really known the way, although this could have been due to him really not wanting be within a thousand leagues of Elrohir again. At the tavern the year before, a certain blonde had preferred his advances to those of prince of Imladris, and thus the son of Elrond had not been best pleased. Mercifully for the navigator, Celebrian was not aware of his predicament.

On arrival at the Grey Havens, the Lady of Imladris was welcomed by the colour of grey, one which she had not seen for centuries. Delighted to see this cheerless, dull place of misery, Celebrian felt new life in her veins and immediately set off for Imladris, having found that Cirdan was being the typical difficult person that he was and had left without her.

Now, Celebrian was galloping east, a childish grin on her face, singing a hideous song about a pair of lovers who fell in love, were parted for a few days (this bit was very sad, so much so the skies wept) and then after a few more days decided to get married and then lived happily ever after. In the true elvish fashion, the song consisted of over a thousand verses, and was sung over a time period of four days, and also in keeping with elvish fashion, the verses were horribly long and complicated, the sentences making little or no sense as well as never rhyming. Her horse had cried every day out of sound induced misery, and had been very happy when his Lady arrived at her destination.

_Master Elrond's Fishpond_

Erestor was totally drunk. So drunk that he had not been able to manage any coherent speech for days. So drunk that the world was spinning at worryingly different speeds depending on which way he looked. He had also become convinced that his foot had fallen off in the bath, that he had a beautiful wife who resembled the fireplace and that freshly picked newts made a good breakfast snack.

Normally the honourable councillor to Lord Elrond was totally sober, but this week he had enough of people complaining, shouting, whining, crying (Eldarion), moaning (Frodo), bitching, disputing, groaning (Frodo again) and generally acting like they were two year-olds. He had once before found that if he was drunk then people did not ask him stupid questions about the weather or concerning trivial matters involving the doings of the council. Happy for the first time since Elrond had taken the contents of his wine cellar with him to the Grey Havens, Erestor picked up a beautiful port decanter which appeared to be floating upside down. Setting it the right way up, (and then wondering why his legs felt wet) Erestor made his way to the nearest door and staggered out into the gardens, tripping over a daisy he fell head first into an ornate fishpond.

Erestor was not the only one of Elrond's trusted advisors to have taken refuge in the comfort of alcohol. Glorfindel was celebrating after he and Gandalf had completed their masterpiece of a firework and so was staggering through the corridors in a drunken fashion singing a song about a pair of goldfish that fell deeply in love then died of broken hearts. Glorfindel had thoroughly enjoyed his time being a creative genius, however in the early hours of the morning he had been given the task of acting as a baby-sitter. After less than an hour he had found that he was not cut out for child-minding. Having dumped Eldarion on Frodo, who seemed to be a very good baby-sitter (Elanor was also in his care, as opposed to being in Galadriel's hair) Glorfindel had crawled into a wine bottle and refused to come out until someone gave him a valid reason to do so.

As he lay in his drunken state, the anguished Legolas had appeared. The poor Prince of Mirkwood had tears streaming down his face, and due to his state his mind failed to recognise Glorfindel as being under the effects of alcohol. Glorfindel had been in no mood to play the agony aunt, and so had felt duty bound to beat Legolas unconscious in an act of alcohol induced justice. Muttering something extremely rude about people from Mirkwood, he'd then staggered out to the gardens, collapsed at the feet of an extremely beautiful golden-haired Lady, and vomited everywhere.

Celebrian burst into fits of laughter. Nothing had changed in the centuries she had been away.

_WMU Headquarters_

Galadriel was a little flustered. Idril had not responded well to being captured, nor did she like being put into a cold, draughty drab room. She had complained loudly to the WMU about the horrible view, the lack of servants and the fact that they had locked the door. All in all, the dramatically romantic rescue was not going to plan. They had not even managed to persuade Idril to put on the lovely dress they had made specially for her. Idril had said that it did nothing for her figure and the colour just wasn't her. Galadriel secretly hoped that when Legolas arrived at the window, Idril would see the error of her ways and beg for forgiveness.

Putting such trivial matters of their captive out of her mind, Galadriel turned her attention to more pressing matters. Legolas, of whom the WMU had such high hopes, had dissappeared off the face of the earth. Gathering her fellow officials to her, Galadriel had ordered a search to be made for the missing Greenleaf. Even Elrond had been forced into helping. Cirdan had made a stand of protest, but unfortunately Rosie's anger had got the better of him, and he too bent in submission. The only three people who were not forced to help were Glorfindel and Erestor (for obvious reasons) and Gandalf, who was putting the finishing touches on his firework, which was going to be amazing beyond compare.

The party had now been running for a week and a half and the last thing the guests were capable of doing was finding someone.

Elanor and Eldarion (the latter of which was learning to crawl) were also helping. After having been abandoned in one of the many libraries, the two little toddlers began to have a look around, until they stumbled upon the sleeping Legolas. He'd been on the brink of finding consciousness, and having two very small people crawling on top of him helped in his search. Sitting up in a groggy fashion, he began to relate the very sad story of losing Idril that morning to an audience that promptly fell asleep.

Three hours later, once the Prince had twice finished his sad tale of woe, he arose, and with a mellow dramatic sigh began to make his way outside. On arriving into the great outdoors, Legolas was set upon by dozens of men, elves, dwarves and even a few hobbits, all of whom had given up the search, but were hoping for Brownie points. Legolas had promptly fallen over again. The wave of onlookers suddenly parted as Galadriel, chairperson of the WMU, made her way towards him.

Kneeling down beside Legolas, Galadriel looked him in the eye and announced that she had some dreadful news to bestow upon him. Gesturing for him to follow her, Galadriel dramatically arose and made her way back inside, closely followed by Legolas who was looking wide eyed.

Galadriel glanced at the late afternoon sun. They did not have much time.

_Elrond's Study_

Elrond thankfully collapsed into a chair in his study, very grateful that the search for the insane Prince was over. Picking up his diary the Lord of Imladris began to write about the strange affairs of the elves.

'It has come to my notice that elves, in comparison with other races may appear somewhat quaint in some of their doings. Today was no exception, as we all spent the best part of the afternoon searching high and low for the blasted Prince of Mirkwood who is soon to be my son in law, if Idril stops whining and does as she's told for once. Galadriel refused to say why she wanted him, suffice to say that she thinks if she tells me then everyone else will know. This shows how stupid she is. If indeed she can see the future (which I have always doubted, my mother in law simply seems a little odd in the head) then she should have known that it was in fact my sons Elladan and Elrohir who are responsible for the mess we are all in today, and by knowing this, she would not have come here. Upon reflection, it would be better if she were able to see the future, indeed, then we would not have to put up with the miserable old hag.'

Here the elf Lord laid down his pen and stretched. He still had to recover from Cirdan's shouting, Haldir's insults and Frodo's whining. No one seemed to appreciate what a stressful life he led, even his trusted advisors Glorfindel and Erestor did not understand. Thinking of which, he hadn't seen them all day. For a couple of days actually.

The sun was beginning to set, the sky was slowly turning red. Putting his diary aside, Elrond picked up a dusty, moth eaten book and settled into one of his favourite bed time stories. Or so he would have done if a knock had not resounded on the door.

Trying not to scream in annoyance, Elrond politely asked if whoever it was would please stop knocking on his door and tell him what on earth they wanted.

Celebrian, who was still deeply amused at finding Erestor in a fishpond and Glorfindel curled around a wine bottle walked over to her husband and covered his eyes in a very childlike manner, telling him to guess who it was.

Elrond, who was not in the same light hearted mood as his dear wife was about to respond when Eldarion, who had been sleeping peacefully on the hearth rug attached to a cat, unnoticed up till then began to scream in protest at the lack of anyone to fuss over him. Letting go of her husband, the Lady of Imladris swept up the screaming baby and began cooing over him. Sitting down on her husband's knee, she happily rocked the screaming baby to sleep again.

Elrond came out of his daze and finally recognised the elf who was sitting on his lap. He would later realise that Cirdan hadn't been truthful when he'd claimed to have an uneventful voyage. The colour drained from his cheeks, and he braced himself for the tirade which would soon deafen him totally. Instead, his wife gave him a very coy smile.

"Is my favourite statue still there? You know, the one with the droopy beard….?"

_A rose garden_

Aragorn was trying to find his wife. He had been looking for her all day, instead he had found two very drunk advisors and someone who looked like a cross between Celeborn and Galadriel. Finally, he gave up the search and went for a wander in the gardens, which looked a bit worse for wear. Avoiding the garden which had Thranduil in it (who was still singing), the King of Gondor finally came to a rose garden, which had the benefit of a beautiful view stretching out down the valley. Sitting on a carved stone bench, King Elessar began to reminisce about his childhood again.

He had been there for perhaps a quarter of an hour when his fellow King, King Eomer of Rohan walked over to him.

"So I hear the WMU have succeeded in capturing Lady Idril," Eomer commented in a companionable manner.

Aragorn, dragged from his memory of climbing a tree only to fall out, break both his arms and then end up in a compost heap, turned to Eomer.

"Do you really think those stupid women would get their hands dirty? No, my friend. If anything gets done anywhere, you can always guarantee that it is the men who do it."

Eomer was surprised. "You mean that idiot Haldir managed to do something useful for a change?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Aragorn said with horror at the thought of Haldir being remotely useful. "I caught her. Such things are so simple when left to the professionals."

Eomer raised one eyebrow. "Tell me Aragorn," here the King of Rohan put his head on one side, "Did you ever catch my sister? After you visited us she never stopped talking about you until-"

Here the King was cut of by an irritated snarl from behind them. Eowyn stepped out in her familiar boy's clothing, and clouted her brother around the head. "Ignore him Aragorn, you know he's just being rude about me."

Eomer gave her one of his menacing grins, "But sister dearest, that's what brothers are for!" Here Eomer turned back to Aragorn. "She used to go one about how handsome you are, how lovely you looked in your.."

"SHUT UP!" Eowyn slapped him across the face again. Here the former shield maiden turned to Aragorn who was shaking with laughter, but knew better than to make much noise about it. "And before you say anything you smelly, flea bitten ranger-"

But alas, the wife of the Steward of Gondor was cut off by a heart rending wail from the rapidly approaching, but obviously distressed Arwen. Throwing her arms around her husband, Arwen began fussing in the typical female manner about how this wild woman was just being rude, and how he wasn't to take any notice of her.

Aragorn was impressed. Arwen had shown virtually no interest in him since the start of the WMU and now, here she was, defending him from the wild shield maiden. Glancing at Eomer (who had his arms around his sister to prevent her killing Aragorn) he decided to make the most of this situation.

"I think my dear," Aragorn said, in a distressed manner, "You should get her back for that. It isn't good form to let standards slip. If we were in Gondor, she would be whipped for insulting me."

Ignoring Eomer's delighted grin at the mention of whipping, Arwen looked up at Eowyn, who was looking daggers at Arwen.

"A challenge? Do I hear you, a stupid, pointless elf challenge me - a shield maiden of the north?" Eowyn looked delighted.

Arwen sniffed with scorn "I'm more northern than you, so don't put on any airs or graces." Here Arwen drew herself up to her full height, throwing out her chest, to Eomer and Aragorn's obvious delight. "Tomorrow at dawn, in the central courtyard, we will settle this. First to three hits. I'll get Rose to referee."

Eowyn snarled. "If you aren't there-"

"Stupid girl, of course I will be."

"And the prize of winning?" Eowyn looked slyly at Aragorn who turned rather pale.

"Win first. Then we will sort that out. And I'm warning you, Eowyn, I have friends in high places, so no funny business." Arwen was fuming.

Eowyn, adopting her male-like stance snarled by way of response, shook off her brother, turned on her heel and stalked off. Eomer burst into fits of laughter. "I think you have a not-so-secret admirer there Aragorn!"

Arwen looked at her husband, "Don't worry dear," she said gently to him, as though he was a four year old, "I'll take care of that nasty shield maiden for you."

"But what if she wins?" Eomer asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "She might try to -"

"She won't." Arwen cut in promptly. "Ada always said I was very good at fighting. Anyway, who heard of an human beating an elf in combat?" And she flounced off.

"Who indeed?" whispered Eomer, "But I do regret that it is only first to three."


	22. Of Storms and Shield Maidens

Chapter 21

The dramatic rescue had been forcibly postponed. Apart from the fact that they had left finding Legolas a little too late (the stars had come out by the time they'd got the message of Idril's impending doom into Legolas's brain, which whilst being very pretty was not as romantic as sunset) and the weather had suddenly changed –rain was now pouring off the roofs, thunder was rolling around the valley, presumably by divine intervention as Idril still hadn't put on the lovely dress they had made her.

Galadriel however, was certain that this weather would not last. After all, Elrond had total control of the weather in his valley, and anyway thunderstorms never lasted very long, especially when an important event was to take place the next day. Especially if the Valar did not wish to risk the wrath of the WMU.

Elrond was not so certain. Since the hobbits had been foolish enough to destroy the One Ring, the Three Rings had not been functioning properly. Much as the Elf Lord had tried, the storm had refused to move, the rain filled the river and streams to the brim, the thunder filled the valley with noise and the squeals coming from Frodo's room confirmed that the noble nine-fingered ring bearer, who had found his way into legend, who had defied ringwraiths several times (admittedly with the help of others) was actually just a very silly little furry footed hobbit, who was still pining for attention. But all of this didn't really bother Elrond. After all, he had more pressing things on his mind. Centuries of separation had turned Celebrian into something of a tiger.

And so due to Lord Elrond's neglect, the storm had raged on all night. Thunder never ceased to roar, lightning flashed keeping everyone awake. Thranduil was the sole elf to be delighted. All this rain would water in the trees he had planted over the past week. Evidently, the rain was a gift from on high. The Mirkwood King had thus spent the entire night composing and singing a song about the grace of the Valar.

_Hobbit Quarters, Imladris_

Frodo didn't like storms. To own the truth he never had. Ever since Merry and Pippin had put a frog in his bed in the midst of a rainstorm and then had told him that there was a troll waiting for him outside so he would have to keep the frog with him all night, Frodo had had an acute phobia of thunder and lightning. He had always been slightly sensitive, even as a child, but this cruel and merciless act had really scared the poor hobbit senseless. Not even Uncle Bilbo could soothe Frodo when there was a storm raging, especially if Frodo did not have his teddy. This teddy was in the shape of a big cuddly troll, which to be entirely truthful did not really resemble a troll (it had whiskers, a long black tail and pointy ears, and had actually been modelled on next door's cat, but unlike the cat next door, it had big brown eyes and a club in its right hand) and it had been made by Rosie in an attempt to stop Mr Frodo having nightmares, and thus stop Mr Frodo from waking poor little Elanor every night.

But Frodo did not have his teddy, and frankly, Mrs Gamgee had "really had enough of your moaning Mr Frodo, if you have listened to my Sam in the first place you'd never have gone to Mordor to do all those silly things that you did, and if you really think I have the time to look after you as well as Sam, Elanor _and_ be a leading member of the WMU then you are more stupid than you look. You really should try being _me_ for a day or two, then you'd stop your silly complaining."

For some unfathomable reason, this did not really help Frodo in his lament for peace of mind and so the brave hobbit (of whom minstrels now sing) went wandering in an attempt to clear his mind and find a bit of sympathy.

_The North Tower_

Idril was not in the least pleased. She had just discovered that the roof had a few leaks in it, the dress they had given her was the wrong size, _as well_ as being the wrong colour, and the WMU hadn't given her enough food to last for the centuries that it would take Legolas to rescue her.

But what was the best plan of action? After all, trying to get out was impossible; the door was locked, the window was barred, and the roof, whilst having plenty of escape routes simply brought her onto the top of a very tall tower in the middle of nowhere, which really wasn't very helpful. Gandalf had not seen fit to tell Gwahir that messenger moths should _not_ be eaten when they had completed their heroic quests, any shouting from her would be drowned out by the storm and so getting a message to anyone was nigh on impossible.

Of course, she could simply sit tight and wait for someone to rescue her, but that could take years. Idril began to mull the idea over, and it was not as stupid as it sounded. After the lapse of several centuries, she would have long enough hair to tie to the side of the window and use as a rope to escape. Maybe that wasn't such a bad idea. By the time that had happened the irritating Haldir would have left, the infuriating and treacherous Aragorn would be dead and Legolas would hopefully have forgotten her. And in the mean time, she could compose a song about a poor princess who was imprisoned by a wicked witch (Galadriel and or Rosie) and a handsome prince would have to come and rescue her (Legolas would end up doing this position, but she would obviously prefer someone else –Gimli for example- to fulfil this part). Somehow she could get a theme in about betrayal (elves always liked this sort of thing), and maybe if she were really clever, something about sunsets would finish the whole drama off nicely. Maybe this was the reason that the blasted WMU had left a harp in the room. It certainly wouldn't be for Legolas, after all, even the WMU were not so stupid as to want to be deafened.

_Guest Quarters of Imladris assigned to His Majesty High King Elessar of Gondor, Defeater of Sauron, Cheiftan of the Dunedain, Heir of Isildur, Strider etc. and Queen Arwen _

As the High King of Gondor tried in vain to stop his son from screaming his heart out, not for the first time he wondered if elves really were the fairer race. His dear wife was lying on her back snoring like a dwarf (and had been for the entire night despite the thunder), from the balcony of their room he could hear the wail of Thranduil singing about some Galar Vrace which he assumed meant that the Mirkwood King was slightly more drunk that usual, and before he had retired for the night he had walked into Galadriel who was wringing her hands and muttering things like 'the world in changing,' 'I sense his doom is near,' and 'I wish I could remember the poetry Celeborn used to serenade me with.'

Looking down at Eldarion, Aragorn gave a deep sigh. Why was life so unfair? Why was it that he, the greatest heir of Isildur had to put up with the elves? After all he had done for Gondor, and indeed Middle Earth, why was he not allowed to be spared from the elves, (who really should have left for Valinor a long time ago anyway). Was he never to find peace? Heaving another deeper sigh, Aragorn tried Legolas's approach. Covering Eldarion's mouth with his hand, the King firmly told his son he had to "_shut up now or daddy will be very cross"._ Eldarion squirmed slightly, and when his father's hand was removed, he started wailing afresh.

Looking down at his son with a blank expression on his face, Aragorn decided that drastic times called for drastic measures. Getting out of bed, the King of Gondor made his way down to his foster father's study to find 'Elrohir's antidote for screaming babies.'

What the ranger failed to notice was that Frodo, in his wanderings, had chanced upon him, and was now following at a distance, hoping Aragorn would prove to be more sympathetic than Mrs Gamgee.

_Guest Quarters of Imladris assigned to Lord Faramir, Steward of Gondor,_ _Prince of Ithilien,__ Lord of Emyn Arnen._

Eowyn really enjoyed storms, and this one was far better than any of the ones she had seen in Gondor or Rohan. When she had been very little she and her brother had been told stories about a big giant who threw lightening down at people. She and Eomer had often played games where they would throw things at the royal guards in Edoras in the hope that their missiles would turn into lightening and thus destroy the irritating guards. (This had in fact been the idea of firing arrows at the orcs from the top of the Hornburg at Helm's Deep, it symbolised lightening striking from above, at least, that was what the poets said afterwards). This game had continued in the war of the ring, when any respectable people would either be too old or too busy fighting to waste time in such an irresponsible manner. Once the war was over and Eowyn had been removed to Gondor, leaving her immature brother in Rohan she had found that such pursuits were difficult to continue alone and so had been forced to find someone else to help.

But in Gondor Faramir declined to help, saying that the "Guards of the King had enough to do without being distracted by wild northern shield maidens." Arwen would have been the next to ask, as being female, she would understand how exciting it was. But alas, the Queen of Gondor was far too attached to her husband and ever since Arwen had found out about how Eowyn had been flirting with Aragorn (Legolas had added a few helpful details here, in the hope that Arwen might ditch Aragorn, but it didn't work); Arwen had stubbornly refused to help in any of Eowyn's little 'projects'. Not being one to accept defeat, Eowyn had enrolled the help of Ioreth, who found attracting men's attention _most_ enjoyable, even though she wasn't very good at it.

Aragorn had complained several times to Faramir about the antics of the Shield Maiden, saying that 'If Gondor was attacked and the whole army was being distracted, then we would all be ruined.'

Faramir, delighted to have a chance to get one over the King had politely asked whom it had been who defeated and killed the Witch King. Aragorn had simply looked down his nose at Faramir, heaved a deep sigh and walked off, muttering about having some very important affairs and how the Steward of the city should really be helping, not making a nuisance of himself.

Eowyn had been so proud of Faramir that that night she _really_ annoyed the King by challenging Arwen to a duel. Arwen had been eager to take up the challenge and would have done so had not a certain dwarf started digging a cave in the Royal Gardens. Both King and Queen had been so annoyed that they had instantly forgotten Eowyn.

Eowyn had not forgotten this however, and was relishing in the prospect of being able to fight the famed Evenstar. This time there would be no distractions, as no one really cared about the gardens here due to the fact that they were already beyond repair thanks to the dwarves.

And so Eowyn happily spent the night (much to Faramir's amusement) preparing for the fight, torn between reliving the memories of annoying the royal guards (from both Edoras and Minas Tirith) and imagining the fight that would take place on the morrow. At times, Eowyn would suddenly throw to the floor whatever she was 'dropping' on someone's head, stop and adopt a fighting stance, pretending that Arwen was in front of her. Eowyn would then go over her Nazgul defeating moves, and eventually Arwen's sword would be dashed aside, and Eowyn would be standing, the victor, and Aragorn would be…..

_WMU Headquarters_

Legolas was beside himself. His true love was trapped in the tower, not any tower, but _the_ tower, the North East Tower, in which no one had ever been happy. The rain was pouring down (which was a very depressing sight), it was now the middle of the night and no one seemed to be giving him any aid as to what he should be doing. He was in the company of two of the WMU who had given him the message of Idril's predicament, and all they seemed to be capable of doing was shaking their heads and saying what a dreadful situation this was.

Rosie looked down on Legolas with an expression of deep sympathy.

"Oh you poor thing," Rosie said for the fiftieth time. "What a state to be in!"

Galadriel nodded, sighing deeply. "Alas. Legolas," Here Legolas looked mournfully up at Galadriel, "Your beloved is in distress, no one but you can save her."

Legolas, tears streaking his handsome face, managed to choke out; "But how?"

"Alas," Galadriel said softly, assuming her fortune teller far away gaze, "I know not. Some evil has befallen her," (to which Legolas yelped with fright) "But what? That is harder to tell. The power of the Elves is failing," Galadriel sank heavily into a chair, trying to look as though life was being sucked from her, "What will come to pass if you should fail this task is all too obvious. Legolas," Galadriel's voice was now much firmer, as she had finally realised that the elf was unable to think for himself, at least in situations like this, "If she is not out of that tower by sunset tomorrow, then the worst is to be expected." Galadriel concluded her dramatic speech and looked down at the Mirkwood Prince, who was now sobbing his heart out.

Rosie, not wanting to be outdone by the chairperson of the WMU glanced at the sky. "Do not let your heart be troubled, I know that you will succeed in this mission, Legolas. You just have to think of a way to rescue her."

"I have great faith in you, Legolas." Galadriel sceptically added, "I know you will find a way, somehow."

Motioning for Rosie to follow her, the Lady of Lorien glided out of the room, locking the door behind her, so that if Legolas, in an unexpected stroke of genius, thought of a way to get Idril down from the tower he could not complete it until sunset.

_Elrond's Study_

Aragorn thankfully sank into one of the chairs in Elrond's study. Thanks to Elrohir's antidote, Eldarion was now sleeping peacefully, heedless of the storm that was still roaring around outside.

Aragorn found himself reminiscing again. The storm was bringing back the memories of the battle of Helm's Deep. Once again the uruk-hai were surging forward, they were totally outnumbered, Gimli and Legolas were too preoccupied with arguing to do any fighting, Eowyn was being difficult as always and Theoden was too busy making poetic speeches to be of any use at all. It was in this desperate hour that the Ranger had turned into the greatest King of all times. Fearlessly he had led the people of the West into battle and they had been victorious. And then he had led everyone into battle again in Gondor, and again he had proved to be an exceptional leader. And after that he had led everyone to the Black Gate of Mordor and there _again _he had proved to be the man of the hour, added to this he had made a speech that had been so incredible, that Eomer had said that it was better than any of the ones Theoden had come out with.

A smile settled on the High King of Gondor's face, and he slowly drifted off to sleep, Eldarion curled up rather sweetly in his arms. As husband to a queen whose snore was louder than Mount Doom erupting, the King was not disturbed by the thunder.

It was at this point that Frodo arrived. Seeing the King sleeping peacefully, Eldarion cherub-like in his arms proved to be too much for the nine-fingered hobbit. Why was it that some people had all the luck there was? Why was it that Strider (whose real name was Longshanks) could come out of a war with nothing but a beautiful wife and a new sword, whereas he, the ring bearer, by far the most important person, the one who had risked everything for nothing, came out of it minus a finger and minus his precious. Frodo, slowly, dramatically, and as noisily as possible began to weep, in the hope of waking the King, or at least waking Eldarion (previous studies had shown that waking Eldarion was a highly effective method of waking anyone else).

Aragorn pretended not to notice at first, hoping that if he ignored the whining hobbit then it would go away and leave him in peace. Eldarion (who would not wake until the next afternoon) gave a delighted burble as though someone was singing to him and then began to snore in the same fashion as his mother.

But Frodo did not give in. Knowing that Eldarion would have to wake up soon or someone else would hear him Frodo carried on his noisy lament, sniffing periodically to add to the overall effect, alternatively moaning that no one cared and whining that he was having horrible dreams.

After ten minutes of this scene, Frodo began to realise that Aragorn was _not _going to wake up, no matter how hard he cried, so instead he went for the direct approach. Tugging violently at King Elessar's sleeve, Frodo began to wail even louder in much the same way that Eldarion did when he really wanted to annoy his father.

Aragorn could bear it no longer. This silly furry-footed hobbit had been nothing but a nuisance ever since he had first met him. Finally deciding that he should really have to face up to this peril (and maybe it would be written into the history books, how the King had comforted the grief-stricken hobbit, thus showing what a caring man he was, and not just a great war leader) Aragorn opened his eyes and gave a deep understanding sigh.

"Frodo," Aragorn commenced, in a very deep and meaningful voice, one that could easily have been an impersonation of Elrond, "Alas, you weep my friend, what ails you?"

Frodo looked up at the King with tear-filled sky-blue eyes. "I don't remember anything," the noble ring bearer gasped, trying very hard to sound as though he was on the edge of a nervous breakdown, "not the taste of food, nor the sound of water falling from above,"

Aragorn was wondering if he should remind Frodo that actually anyone (even over the snoring of a dwarf, or indeed that of his wife) could hear the rain pouring down at that very instant, when the door of the study was thrown open.

Frodo stopped crying and screamed, desperately trying to climb onto Aragorn's knee, in the hope of not being killed by this new horror. Aragorn tried to rise from his chair, but with a sleeping baby and hobbit to hold on to (the latter of which was now squealing in terror) he failed rather miserably.

Lightening split the night, and the figure walked into the room. Aragorn, suddenly realising whom this was (the scent was very distinctive) closed his eyes and groaned, and then quickly feigned slumber once more. Eldarion gave another contented gurgle in his sleep. Frodo, who didn't know who it was, stopped screaming (lest he wake Eldarion and then have to nurse him back to sleep) and taking a very firm hold of Aragorn's shoulder, he peeked over the edge of the top of the chair. When he saw whom it was he nearly passed out.

Eowyn strode in, her golden hair blowing out behind her, her blue eyes flashing dangerously, a drawn sword in her hand.

She walked over to where Aragorn was 'sleeping' with Frodo climbing on him and Eldarion burbling at him.

Frodo looked up at the wild shield maiden, knowing then and there why they were so feared. Terrified of the sword that looked incredibly dangerous, Frodo desperately tried to gain Aragorn's attention. Eowyn frowned.

Seeing her confusions, Frodo helpfully pointed out, "He's not asleep, he's just pretending."

Eowyn looked murderous.

"I heard a fight going on." Eowyn snarled, "I expected to at least to be able to challenge those that disturb me from my preparations for the morrow." She looked down her nose at Aragorn, "Or will you deny me the pleasure of fighting you, you who dared to challenge the heroic ring-bearer who saved the lives of all of us?" Eowyn sounded slightly angrier than was usual. Aragorn expected that she was working herself into a frenzy for the fight at dawn, as was the custom with these wild women.

"I didn't challenge him," Aragorn began, wondering if it was even worth bothering to argue, after all, he had attacked her once, and she wasn't that good at fighting. "He came here seeking solace."

Eowyn growled. "A likely story, _King Aragorn_, but why then did I hear the crashing of blades and the screaming of the oppressed?"

Aragorn muttered something extremely rude about Eowyn having an overactive imagination, which thankfully she didn't hear as the wailing of someone else suddenly caught their attention.

"Beloved, thou art my sun…."

Aragorn immediately rose, gathering up both hobbit and infant. Without even a backward glance to Eowyn (who was now looking absolutely horrified) he rushed out of the room.


	23. Duels and Disasters

Chapter 22

Dawn had slowly crept up on the Valley of Rivendell. The sky had turned from pink to gold and with the upcoming sun, the storm had finally abdicated, drifting off to the south in the hope of finding some other party to drench. Birds that had been in hiding throughout the storm slowly crept back into the open, greeting the new day with slightly more tune than the Mirkwood King. Grass glistened in the morning sunlight; flowers shook off their covering of rain and opened in search of the sun's warmth. Bees began to make their trips around the not-quite-so-pristine gardens in the hope of finding flowers that would replenish winter stores of honey which had been washed away in the rain. Butterflies lazily glided around without the urgency of the bees, nor the grace of the birds, but with a certain elegance that had inspired several of Gandalf's fireworks. Deer timidly began to wander out of the surrounding woodland onto the grassy plains, in the hope of finding food without becoming food themselves.

In the royal chambers Arwen idly opened her eyes, squinting slightly in the morning sun. Turning over, the Queen of Gondor was about to greet her husband and tell him to go and feed Eldarion, when she suddenly remembered that at dawn she was supposed to be fighting Eowyn in the central courtyard. Arwen sat up suddenly and then noticed that Aragorn was not with her.

Thinking that he might perhaps be showing some initiative and was feeding Eldarion without being asked, Arwen slowly began to dress and arrange her hair in a way that would enable her to defeat this Eowyn, who had evidently bitten off far more than she could chew.

_Dining Hall of Imladris_

The dining hall used in the mornings was slowly filling up with sleepy, yawning and in some cases half-dressed people, most of which hadn't slept at all the previous night due to the storm.

Galadriel was sitting at the head of the high table (in lieu of Elrond who seemed to have got lost on his way down, as usually he was the first up, savoring a little peace before the trials of the day began) and at her right sat Rosie. The two leading members of the WMU had put together a little speech for breakfast that morning in order to recruit a few extra helpers, as they had found that it was increasingly difficult to think of all the action of the WMU as well as carry out all the procedures.

Cirdan was grumpily eating his way through his second venison pie that had been left over from the previous night, trying to ignore the smirking hobbit that sat opposite him. The hobbit in question was watching him intently, periodically jotting down a few notes, which were doubtless lewd false allegations against the noble shipwright.

Glorfindel and Erestor (who both were in possession of blinding hangovers) were trying extremely hard to eat breakfast, but as they could scarcely see, it wasn't a particularly easy task. Both councilors had found the effects of too much alcohol and a long storm did not really go together very well to the extent that Glorfindel had managed to put a tunic on back to front and Erestor had forgotten his doublet.

Sam and Frodo were happily eating in a corner with Merry and Pippin. The four hobbits were cheerfully relishing a few moments without Rosie telling them to behave as well as an extremely good breakfast –this may have had something to do with the threats that Frodo had sent down to the kitchen the previous day. Frodo had said that if they didn't provide a decent amount of food then they would send Rosie down to sort them out. Not surprisingly, the threat worked perfectly. Frodo had devoured bacon, eggs, mushrooms and a large pile of sausages and was in the process of considering his next move upon the tomatoes when it occurred to him that perhaps it might be time to look towards going home. Rosie seemed totally absorbed with the WMU and so would not notice the absence of a few spare hobbits and if he got home quickly enough then he could change the locks on Bag End.

Gimli was in deep and meaningful conversation with Celeborn, Eomer and Faramir, whilst the four shared a pile of egg, bacon and sausage, demonstrating to all that males (of any species) are not in any possession of manners, especially in the early hours of the morning. They had been discussing the merits of the female species, (which didn't take them very long) and then they had swiftly moved on to the problems that women of all races possessed. The discussion centered around the lack of common sense, the lack of intelligence, the inability to finish any specific task and their disregard for the astuteness of men in general. Celeborn had related the story of Galadriel's incorrect assumptions about Ents and the subsequent embarrassment caused by naming Treebeard's favourite birch tree a Wentch (this was Galadriel's cross of Ent and Wench). Once this tale had been dissected and analysed; it did lend considerable weight to their argument, Celeborn had then moved onto the tale of her attempt to explain to the White Council why it was so important that they were white rather than purple.

Eowyn walked in about two hours after dawn, a terrifying look on her face. The whole hall went totally silent as the former shield maiden scanned the hall for traces of Arwen. When she realized that Arwen wasn't there, nor was there any trace of her beloved Aragorn, Eowyn turned on her heel and was about to walk out but instead walked straight into Gandalf who had been about to join the rabble who were currently breaking their fast in one of Elrond's many halls.

Grinning at the enraged Eowyn (who said something extremely rude about filthy wizards with bleach fascination who always showed up far too late, before running out the nearest door) Gandalf proudly walked over to the WMU and informed them that the 'masterpiece' he had created for the evening was ready. This was greeted with interested murmurs from the spectators in the hall, and an infuriatingly superior nod from the chairperson of the WMU. His task complete, Gandalf walked over to where Gimli was sitting and joined in the conversation, adding helpful details here and there about a certain Lady of Lorien who had some very amusing secrets.

A few minutes after Eowyn had stormed out Arwen and Aragorn arrived. Both the monarchs looked refreshed and happy, despite the ever-increasing threat of the wild northern shield maiden who was now in a filthy temper.

Arwen happily let go of her husband and went to join the WMU with an air of supreme importance and elegance. To those amongst the company who were slightly more naïve than the rest, she appeared as the most beautiful apparition that had ever walked the face of the earth (this may have had something to do with Arwen borrowing Idril's maid whilst her mistress was trapped in the tower) but to those who did know her it was amazing how one so shallow could ever appear so fine. It just goes to show, Eomer pointed out to Celeborn (who looked nonplussed at the sight of his granddaughter), that one really cannot judge by looks.

Aragorn gave a deep contented sigh as he watched his dear wife glide noiselessly across the room, as always the center of attention. Turning, he suddenly caught sight of Frodo, whom looked as though he was about to burst into tears again. Swiftly changing his plans, Aragorn decided to go in search of Legolas who was the only member of the surviving fellowship who was not present.

Frodo stifled a sob. Life really was cruel. Sighing, the former ring bearer (whose name would endure to the ending of the world), wiped his eyes of the crocodile tears that had been gathering there, picked up his fork and speared the nearest tomato.

Turning to Merry, he asked; "So what are those silly women doing today?"

Galadriel smiled sweetly at her granddaughter as she sat down on her left. Helping herself to another cup of tea, Galadriel began to converse with the two other WMU members the plan they had put together for the dramatic rescue if Legolas didn't succeed in finding Idril in time. They had decided that if Legolas was not in possession of enough brain to get Idril out the tower then he would have to fight his way to her. (They had come to the conclusion that the Mirkwood Prince was probably far too dim to think of how to get Idril out of the tower, but they lived in hope). Gandalf had offered a firework that looked like a dragon, Haldir had volunteered to be the evil black knight, (on the condition that if Legolas did not beat him in the archery then he would get Idril) and Eowyn was going to be the wicked witch by whose magic Idril was imprisoned. Eowyn however had not been informed of this little plot, and even if she had, if would have made no sense to her as all she could currently think of was defeating Arwen.

After half an hour's very productive discussion on the rescue, the ladies turned their attention to the matter of recruiting. They had their heads together discussing the finer points of their recruitment scheme when Elrond arrived.

Sweeping wordlessly into the hall, his dear wife on his arm, Elrond turned to find his mother-in-law sitting in his chair. What made it even more insulting was that the meddlesome hobbit missus was sitting in his wife's place, which he had instructed to be left empty for 'an important visitor.' Arwen was sitting opposite her and the three had an air of great importance.

Without waiting for Elrond to even speak, Galadriel took advantage of the stunned silence from the elves who recognized Celebrian, the momentary lapse in belching from the dwarves and a temporary cessation from the hobbit giggling, and the rose to address the company who were currently eating Rivendell into a famine.

"As chairperson to the Working Mother's Union it is my pleasure to announce that we are currently looking for new recruits. Anyone who is interested should contact either myself or either one of my two associates," here Arwen and Rosie looked incredibly smug, "And we will consider you for a position. I should add here, that to qualify you have to be a working mother." Galadriel concluded her speech and sat down, and looking slightly flustered accepted the applause of her two fellow WMU members.

The rest of the hall took a while to react. Cirdan however was one of the first to return to his senses. Looking at the WMU his mouth dropped open, and he burst into fits of laughter, elegantly spraying Gimli with a mouthful of venison pie.

Celebrian suddenly grabbed hold of her husband's arm and dragged him out the room, telling him that he really "Should have taken better care of my mother, as now look at the state she's in and just look at the company she's keeping!" Elrond had smirked at this, secretly very pleased that his own beloved wife would not join the WMU and thus spend their time trying to convince others that they were in love with each other. Sadly the happy couple did not get far, as in the hallway they walked straight into Eowyn. The former shield maiden was looking absolutely furious and she had a King of Gondor clinging to her arm, in a vain attempt to stop the enraged woman killing his wife. On seeing his foster father, Aragorn went pale and redoubled his efforts.

Meanwhile the rest of the company were beginning to come out of the daze they had been in. Gandalf (who had been smoking his pipe in an attempt to annoy Rosie) took his pipe out of his mouth and, trying to keep a straight face, politely inquired if he were allowed to join.

Arwen (who had never understood sarcasm) got up to reply. "Of course not. You aren't a working mother."

"Neither is Galadriel. Nor are you, but that hasn't stopped either of you two becoming the most important members." Gandalf grinned as Arwen groped for a reply.

The smirk that had been forming on Eomer's face gradually formed into an ear-splitting grin, and he fell to the floor in fits of laughter. He was closely followed by Faramir.

Bilbo had a broad smile on his face and was frantically writing everything down, delighted to have such silly doings to elaborate on in his new book. This was so absurd that the story of the WMU would endure forever, as well as giving Galadriel's reputation another serious knock. The other hobbits in the room were either laughing or trying to imagine how the elves had ever been portrayed as so wise. Certainly, if this one was anything to go on, they were dimmer than the dwarves. But then it was always the man-elves (as Pippin called them) who wrote the stories, the lady-elves never came into them except as ornaments here and there. Perhaps that was why it was always the men-elves who wrote the stories and why they kept themselves out of the way of others; illusions were so easily shattered when the fairer race were studied at such close quarters.

Celeborn's face had slowly lengthened as his wife's speech had progressed and when she had finished it he turned to Gandalf (who was still beaming at Arwen). Shaking his head in silent wonder he asked, "Why did I marry her? I thought she was more intelligent than this. I thought she might think of me, rather than hitching everyone else up."

Gimli, (after having removed Cirdan's breakfast from his beard and thrown it back at its rightful owner), clapped Celeborn on the shoulder, which knocked him out of his chair. Breaking into the raucous laughter so commonly found with dwarves, Gimli was about to throw the remnants of Faramir's breakfast at the WMU to prove a point, when Eowyn appeared. Aragorn was evidently still trying to gain some control over her but failing supremely.

Arwen, suddenly remembering why she had put on the breeches and donned the sword got up and walked over to Eowyn.

"Alright Eowyn, first to three hits in the central courtyard. Rosie is going to referee."

Eowyn snarled. "You think I'm falling to that! You think that after you have declined this morning, I will let you have a biased referee, _one who probably doesn't even know how to wield a blade?_"

Rosie leapt to her feet at this, but Arwen, who was turning purple, cut her off. _"Just remember to whom you are talking EOWYN!"_ Arwen bellowed. "_Now do you want to fight me or not?"_

"FINE!" was Eowyn's eloquent response. With that the wild woman of Rohan stormed out shoving Aragorn from her path, trampling on a few dimwitted elves and kicking Gandalf's chair so he fell out of it. She was closely followed by Rosie and Arwen.

Once the WMU were out of the hall, the rest of the diners rose in a body and dashed out after them.

_Central Courtyard_

Slowly Arwen and Eowyn circled each other, surrounded by a crowd of giggling spectators. Faramir and Aragorn were standing side by side, hands on sword hilts, but not trying hard enough to conceal their amusement. Both King and Steward were periodically suffering from unpleasant coughing fits, which may have been a poor attempt to cover their reactions to the Queen and Stewardess of Gondor attempting to fight.

Elrond seemed totally unimpressed with the spectacle, and standing next to him his wife was looking on with a benign interest wondering what it was that made people anywhere than Rivendell turn into babbling idiots. Surely Arwen would never have been foolish enough to fight anyone so clearly deranged as a Shield Maiden had she not journeyed so far away. And what in Middle Earth had possessed her mother to start consorting with the hobbit missus?

Arwen (not being blessed with much common sense) was the first to attack. With the grace of the Eldar she bounded silently across the paved courtyard and swung her sword at the enraged Eowyn with all her might.

This first attempt was parried, and Arwen dramatically sidestepped, tossing her hair into Eowyn's face endeavoring to put off her opponent.

This did not discourage Eowyn in the slightest. With lightening reflexes, the Stewardess brought her sword round, aiming at Arwen's head. Mercifully for Gondor, Arwen ducked out of the way, but not before Eowyn had managed to cut a lock of her hair off.

As the black lock of hair cascaded to the ground a high pitched shriek issued forth from the referee. This only served to annoy Eowyn further, as she was convinced that the dratted WMU were ganging up against her and thus the referee was being biased.

Galadriel began to wring her hands, terrified that her precious granddaughter would get hurt. As the wise Queen that she was, she knew that finding another associate for the WMU with the same amazing capacity for getting around Elrond would be impossible.

Eowyn felt that she had gained the upper hand. Like a wolf that had tasted the first blood, she could smell victory, thus launching a ferocious attack on Arwen, Eowyn's sword crashed into the delicate elven blade belonging to the Gondorian Queen over a dozen times before it was wrenched from its owner's hands and went spinning to the floor. But true to all elven fashions, instead of crashing in an ungraceful manner, the elegantly crafted elven blade tinkled beautifully to the ground, thus inspiring _another_ generation of poets and songwriters on the subject of 'The fall of the Evenstar.'

Eowyn gave Arwen a rough kick in the shins, sending her flying to the ground. Grinning in triumph, the wild Rohan woman pointed her blade at Arwen's throat.

Trying hard not to smile at his wife's inelegant defeat, Aragorn calmly walked forward and politely asked if Eowyn would refrain from killing his dear Queen.

Eowyn turned on Aragorn with a wicked gleam in her eye. But before she could reply, Rosie was mistress of the situation.

"It was first to three hits, Strider." She started, with an air that promised a lecture was well on the way, "And you should have more faith in your wife and Queen, as this is simply a minor setback, Arwen was just dropping behind for a more dramatic victory." Rosie paused and looked down at the Queen who looked as though she really did not want to do any more fighting in the next few centuries. "Isn't that so, Arwen?"

Arwen looked at the blade that was a touching her throat. She then transferred her gaze to the look on Eowyn's face. Aragorn had said that he had defeated her easily. Evidently he had been lying.

Eowyn looked slyly at Aragorn. "Is that really a good idea, my Lord?" she questioned him with a fair amount of politeness, more than was normally forthcoming. "Do you really think that your _wife_ is actually up to it?"

Aragorn slapped Eowyn's sword aside and helped his wife up. Gathering her to him, he quietly suggested that maybe this wasn't such a good idea, knowing full well that any suggestion coming from him of this nature would inspire his wife to do exactly the opposite.

Arwen was about to reply when a loud wailing sound cut through the silence. Whoever was making the noise was evidently very distressed about something.

Elrond (who had never been so amused in his life before) wiped the smirk off his face and, assuming the 'I am the keeper of the most powerful elven ring, so cross me at your peril' look, drew his sword and strode off looking purposeful in the direction that the awful howling was coming from. As always in situations like these, his trustworthy advisors, Glorfindel and Erestor, accompanied him. (This was done with a little difficulty as neither Lord could see particularly well. By the time Elrond was halfway to his destination Glorfindel was in a flowerbed and Erestor had walked into a tree). Cirdan decided that as he was viewed as a very wise and respected individual (at least by anyone who had not read Bilbo's latest book) he should really accompany the Keeper of Vilya, and so assuming the 'ancient and venerable, yet still deadly with a blade' stance, he followed his host.

Galadriel (who recognized the howling) began to wring her hands with renewed vigor. Beckoning to the other two WMU members, she hurried after Elrond, trying not to look too hard at Bilbo, who had ink spattered on his nose due to the speed at which he had been writing.

Arwen quickly disentangled herself from Aragorn, and, Eowyn conveniently forgotten, she dashed off after Galadriel. Rosie promptly followed suit.

For some unfathomable reason, Eowyn was not best pleased by this. Turning on Aragorn, she was about to say something very impressive which would undoubtedly prove to the King that he had chosen the wrong woman to wed, and so he would abandon the elf forever. Before the opportunity presented itself, the King of Rohan had stepped between Aragorn and Eowyn. Turning to his liege lord, Eomer in a very deep and meaningful voice suggested that they went with all haste and aided this damsel in distress, as it was gallant, noble and seemly so to do.

Eowyn, finally coming to the conclusion that she was never going to actually get to kill Arwen in a fair fight, threw her sword to the ground, stuck out her bottom lip and stormed off, trampling on a few hobbits, the odd dwarf and a couple of mindless elves who were wondering if Arwen would ever be the same again after losing a lock of her beautiful hair that had inspired so many poets to write ballads about stars and flowers.


	24. IS IT TRUE?

This one has taken a while...sorry!

Chapter 23

Legolas could hear the crashing of blades and the screaming of a damsel in distress. There was however no exit to the room he was in. The door was locked. The fireplace did not possess a chimney and there were only a few windows that measured less than a handspan across. Truly the situation was dire. The elven prince had been raised on the stories of innocent ladies being cruelly imprisoned for years on end and had been told by a melodramatic father that these things always did eventually come to pass because all stories had some basis in fact, be it historical or ahead of its time. As such a valiant member of the Fellowship that had striven to destroy the one ring of power Legolas was duty bound to aid this distressed damsel and fate would not allow him to. Legolas could only wail in despair at the terror that now beset this poor defenceless creature. To make matters worse it sounded almost like Idril, and as he was going to marry her he simply could not permit her to be locked up in a tower for all eternity.

And so the lament had started.

It had not turned into his most tuneful melody, however it did get across the intense feeling of despair the elf now felt.

_WMU Headquarters/ Elrond's Drawing room_

Galadriel had recognised the wailing of Legolas the minute it had started. It was a great shame that the room he had been put into had not had a spell cast on it that prevented sound entering or leaving. This would have to be raised at the next WMU meeting in the afternoon as it was clearly an oversight on Arwen's part, although perhaps during the preparation for the duel with the shield maiden it was understandable that this had been overlooked. What was not so understandable was Arwen's clear defeat at the hands of a woman of lesser rank. Galadriel was determined to take her granddaughter to task on this, as it simply was not acceptable that the fairer race was let down so badly.

On watching the duel between the two most important women in Gondor Galadriel had noticed that her daughter had reappeared. This struck her as being potentially quite useful, as another person who could get around Elrond would be a helpful thing to have. Celebrian had also got a way of getting Celeborn to behave in a half way civilised manner (or she could at least persuade him to go off hunting). It was a shame that Celebrian had not spoken up about her enthusiasm to join the WMU at breakfast, but perhaps she was waiting for the opportune moment to do so. Certainly there was nothing else for her to do in Middle Earth.

And so on the onset of Legolas' cries of distress the WMU had rushed from the battle ground desperate to find Legolas and placate him before someone else did, (just on the off chance that they let him out; lest he manage to rescue Idril before the evening). With such carefully laid plans in jeopardy a simple dispute between two women was easily forgotten.

Galadriel, Arwen and Rosie had dashed in the small room which contained the Mirkwood prince and Legolas was then dragged out of the room; just in case anyone else had noticed the noise, and was now being sat on by Rosie in the WMU headquarters. Between them the WMU then set about convincing Legolas that Idril was not in any immediate danger.

"It was just a silly dispute between us!" Arwen exclaimed, thrusting her hair back into its normal rat's nest. "I hated Eowyn right from the start! She got to fight at Helm's Deep, she got to fight for Gondor so of course she had more practice. It is not fair!"

Rosie (who was getting rather agitated due to a lack of second breakfast) was trying the firm approach. "Now come on Legolas; this really will not do. You should be thinking about poor Idril and not making a fuss over nothing. It simply isn't possible that it was her that was in the fight. Honestly, don't you trust me?! I have told you several times now that Idril is in the tower. She needs you to have a clear head so that you can rescue her. Not be fretting about some silly fight between Queen Arwen and the Lady Eowyn."

Legolas was not convinced. Just because Arwen was not wearing the usual silk dress and was sporting a sword it did not mean that she was the one being fought. In fact it made it more likely that Idril was in danger. Legolas had seen Arwen with a sword; the songs that were now being sung about the tragic lock of hair undoubtedly referred to Idril; it was obvious that she was now in mortal danger. Rosie however was a force to be reckoned with. She did not take no for an answer, and whilst her reputation as being one of the most formidable characters in Middle Earth was well-deserved, he was less sure of her integrity. It seemed that perhaps as she was backed up by Galadriel his only option was to stay where he was and wait.

The WMU spent the next hour trying to placate Legolas into the idea that Idril was not being hacked to pieces by Eowyn and that Idril really did need help because she was trapped in the tower with no one to rescue her. They did try to drop subtle hints about how she could be rescued, none of which the noble prince picked up. By the time the sun had reached its highest point in the sky Legolas had given up hope of seeing Idril again.

_Elrond's study_

Elrond sank into a chair in his study with a weary sigh. There simply was no end to the absurdity of the WMU. How it was that any female could possibly conceive that any of what was going on in Imladris was romantic or worthy of remembering simply was incongruous. A shield maiden (battle hardened and the one that had defeated the witch king) against an elf who had rarely held a blade never mind fought someone? It was a wonder his daughter had only lost a small lock of hair; Eowyn could easily have removed a limb and the terrible thing was the whole of Imladris (guest and resident) would simply have stood there laughing.

Aragorn, for all his promises about "looking after" and "loving and cherishing" the Lady Arwen had not shown any desire to help his wife in the fight, nor had he done nearly enough to prevent it from happening in the first place. Celebrian on the other hand had seemed supremely unconcerned by the turn of events and had even been heard to giggle when the fight had come to an abrupt end.

It seemed that his world of tranquillity and peace was falling apart all over the place. The dwarves were still digging holes everywhere, clearly determined to find the mithril which simply wasn't to be found. The Mirkwood King had managed to uproot one of the oldest trees in Imladris under the pretence that it needed to be moved to a 'retirement' spot, and Mablung (the head of the kitchens) had sent another report to him instructing that Rivendell would soon be onto wartime rationing if the hobbits were to remain. If the trusted advisors Glorfindel and Erestor had been in their right mind then they perhaps could have given some sensible guidance on how best to proceed, however both were still unable to walk in straight lines and so were of no use whatsoever. As Elrond pondered on the best course of action, a loud knock resounded on the door closest to the council chamber. Without waiting for him to respond the door was thrown open and in stormed Cirdan. Much to Elrond's amusement Bilbo was trailing after him with a large number of papers in his hand.

"I regret to inform you, Master Elrond," Cirdan began, with a fair degree of sarcasm, "that I am unable to remain here for any longer." Bilbo looked crestfallen. The noble shipwright had been an inspiration for the previous seven chapters of his book "_The fairest race._" He had been following Cirdan for the past week picking up on the odd habits of the shipwright as well as noting any social blunders which the former wielder of Narya seemed to have a habit of making. Bilbo was now hoping for a dramatic scene to bring the latest chapters to a happy conclusion featuring Cirdan, Galadriel, mistaken identity and a few fireworks which Pippin had acquired.

"I am so very sorry to hear that," Elrond managed to keep a straight face. "Is there anything I can do that would persuade you to stay? It was so generous of you to escort my dear wife back across the sea, I do not feel there is enough I can do for you." It went unsaid that Celebrian had been left behind in the Grey Havens; if Galadriel found out she would undoubtedly subject him to the wrath of the WMU. It was also fair (according to Bilbo's observations) that Cirdan had managed to avoid any sort of communication with Celebrian since arriving in Imladris. Celebrian's temper was not dissimilar to her mother's.

Cirdan considered this statement, he knew full well about mother and daughter's unexplainable rage. "I have been insulted by hobbits, by dwarves, and to add insult to injury, Gandalf is now spreading rumours about..." Here Cirdan broke off. Bilbo was watching intently, quill frantically moving over paper.

"...your and Radagast's little enterprise?" Elrond helpfully supplied. "I hear it is quite a radicalisation of what used to be a... ah..."

"...educational establishment?" Bilbo suggested. "I heard," this was directed at Elrond, "that what with the rings being destroyed and you elves having no one else left to fight, you were going to turn your attentions to more, _artistic,_ matters."

"Indeed yes," Elrond nodded wisely. "Art is something that flourishes no matter what else goes on."

Cirdan was now getting rather concerned. He had heard that Gandalf had mentioned starting another gambling den which specialised in dice and a game acquired from Gondor. Radagast being slightly odd in the head had decided that this was a superb idea and as such was now spinning tales about how the education of elves had always been lacking in certain branches. 'Art' however, had never been mentioned. And bearing in mind what Bilbo thought of elves, and Radagast's even more incomprehensible mind 'art' could only mean a few things, neither of which would reflect well on him.

"I have no idea, _none at all_, as to what you are referring to." Cirdan spat. "It is clear that you have very little respect for me, for others, and I am now to take my leave of you." The shipwright spun on his heel and made to leave only to trip over Bilbo who was hurrying to the door.

"I shall inform Radagast at once then," Bilbo cried in delight, pulling hard on Cirdan's arm in a useless attempt to get the Shipwright upright again. "He'll want to join you so that you can have everything in order for when we all arrive!"

"No need my dear Bilbo!" Gandalf exclaimed, appearing from behind a bookcase (he often hid in other people's rooms, it was a habit that Elrond found annoying, Celeborn infuriating and Galadriel rather exciting). "No one is going anywhere any time soon, we have an evening of entertainment to get through first."

Cirdan had been somewhat distracted by the workings of the WMU. Like Celeborn he had no patience with women who spent so much time trying to get other people together and ignoring their husbands, however he could see the potential of getting Galadriel to look like a fool. Trying to look like he had no interest at all in what they were actually doing Cirdan nonchalantly asked what was to occur that evening.

"The dramatic rescue of course! That is why we are all here! Honestly Cirdan you really should pay more attention to current affairs." Elrond sighed in an exasperated manner and released the cat from the drawer it had been stuck in. Evidently one of his children had been languishing in here again.

"But have you not worked out the problem?" Gandalf looked positively thrilled. "Being female they have no sense of direction, nor of maps. Idril is in the North East tower. They have told Legolas that it is the North West tower. Evidently they really are as stupid as they look."

"But that is ridiculous," Elrond protested. "There isn't a North West tower. Everyone here knows that. You only have to look at the setting of the sun to realise that there is no tower blocking its view."

Bilbo had been making a few notes throughout the conversation. It was clear that this might actually do for the conclusion to his book. "True 'love' thwarted by women not knowing how to use maps." "So do we intervene?" He asked, hoping that the answer would be no. "It seems a bit unfair that Legolas has been set up to fail."

"Indeed," Gandalf replied with a slight grin. "Perhaps however it would bring the WMU to a natural conclusion. Certainly if Arwen were to - " Gandalf was cut off by Gimli storming in. The dwarf looked furious.

"Is it true?!" Gimli roared at no one in particular. "IS IT TRUE?!" The axe which had accompanied him through Helm's Deep and Gondor was being waved around in a ferocious manner and the bit that could be seen of Gimli's face was crimson with rage.

Following him into the room, was the King of the Lonely Mountain. As he approached the group of elves, hobbit and wizard he kept up a constant stream of rather rude insults in the dwarven tongue which loosely translated to elves being pansies crossed with spiders. As those present in the room were well versed in the tongues of men, elves, dwarves and hobbits the insults did not go unnoticed and tempers which were already a little frayed began to boil.

Bilbo helpfully asked what the dwarves were referring to, as Elrond evidently was not in a mood to be of assistance.

But the dwarves were far too angry to respond to any sensible enquiry and continued ranting about flowers and arachnids and whether or not it was true.

Celebrian (who had always been hugely diverted by a bit of drama) heard the ruckus from her husband's chamber and wandered in from the garden where she had been alternatively fishing Glorfindel out of the pond and then returning him to the watery environment. The councillor had found that thanks to his Lady's ministrations and the effect of cold water he was beginning to sober up slightly. This was an unfortunate condition for him as it meant that he was starting to realise the mess Rivendell was now in. Very little food, hardly any wine, too many dwarves and a very grumpy Elrond. It did not make for pleasant times.

Celebrian on the other hand was quite enjoying the excitement of having hobbits to mother (she had already decided that Merry and Pippin were adorable, and just how much food could they consume in one sitting?) dwarves to irritate (if you dropped a shiny object you could have endless fun pretending it was the beginnings of a mine) and a new garden planner in the form of the insane Mirkwood King. Life was hardly dull. And to make it even better her children were too preoccupied with other things to be a bother.

So in she stepped to Elrond's chamber, hoping to find something to divert her attention since Arwen and Eowyn were no longer fighting each other and Glorfindel was able to string three words together.

Gimli, on seeing a beautiful elvish lady not dissimilar in appearance to his once highly esteemed Galadriel, stopped his ranting and bowed low. This was the kind, wise and generous lady who had let the secret of the mithril mine be known to him. She had carefully told him of how if he went into the southern garden below the terrace and beside the waterfall, turned to the west and then scaled a sheer cliff face which would then lead to a hidden crevice there was the entrance. Blocked up of course – mining would have to be done, but there it lay. Untold riches.

Elrond watched as the dwarf bowed to his wife and automatically started to wonder what she had done to so quickly earn Gimli's respect. Knowing his wife as he did it probably wasn't something he should approve of as Master of Rivendell, but as someone who had been likened to Thranduil on more than one occasion Elrond made a sly note on the report from the kitchen to find out what his wife had done to the dwarves. It would make a good entry into his diary that had been sadly neglected of late.

Cirdan glared at Celebrian as she smiled down at Gimli. She had obviously been in on the rumour spreading that Gandalf was up to, and clearly had no respect for him. Wondering if he should start to spread gossip about the Lady of Imladris Cirdan very politely enquired what she wanted as there were important matters being discussed which women simply did not need to bother their heads with.

Gimli immediately took issue with Cirdan. How dare he treat such a respectable lady with such condescending coldness? Advancing on the shipwright, Gimli restarted waving his axe and resumed the insults. Deciding that now would be a prudent time to depart, Cirdan made a hasty retreat slamming the door behind him. As he stormed off a blonde, slightly drunk looking elf was knocked headfirst into a pond. It was a perhaps unfortunate for him, as it only sped up the sobering process.

Elrond's cat had been delighted to meet Celebrian; it turned out she was quite a gentle character who could be relied upon to not pick him up by the tail or shut him into drawers. Upon seeing her enter the chamber the cat stopped spitting at Gandalf, started purring and proceeded to mountaineer its way up and onto Celebrian's shoulder. As the cat sank its claws into various parts of the lady's anatomy Gandalf suggested that it would be far-sighted to consider what was happening that evening.

This set Gimli off again. After a an hour of him ranting the company eventually realised what it was that he was so upset about. It seemed that he was a little concerned about the coming events due to the lady in question being trapped in the tower. Evidently Legolas was not going to be able to rescue Idril (for some unknown reason Gimli did not even consider it a possibility that the elf would succeed) and it seemed incomprehensible to the dwarf that anyone would allow such a foolish venture to continue.

Despite the entire company agreeing with every sentiment that Gimli expressed it became very clear to the dwarven walker that no one was going to assist him. It would mean that he would have to take matters into his own hands.


	25. The Fall of Gondolin

_The Hall of the Fire_

Frodo had found a tome (from one of the few shelves which he could reach) that contained an embellished history of Gondolin. It told of how the city had been built by giants, how it had been flooded twice due to the dwarves digging in the wrong place and then finally, because a certain lieutenant had been playing a game of draughts with some noble lord over a dispute regarding the ownership of a goat, how the defence of the city had failed and ultimately had been abandoned to the armies of Morgoth.

It was a long and dark tale, and as Frodo knew the ending was not a happy one he had thoughtfully taken the book to a public place in case he needed someone to sing a merry distracting tune. The Hall of the Fire always had a few people coming and going, even in the middle of the night, and so the Noble Ring Bearer decided that this would be an ideal place for such a thrilling tale. Especially if it got troublesome towards the end.

After having had a splendid breakfast thanks to the threats sent to the kitchen by Rosie, and after an amusing duel between a Queen and a shield maiden Frodo took up position by the fire on a low stool, hoping that he would be left to the storytelling in peace. The few people around would keep the fire going and every now and then he could make requests for food and ale.

Elves are by nature curious of everyone else's business and as a result Frodo had periodically been prodded into speech by members of Elrond's house who were not digging up trees or desperately trying to find wine. Gelmir (after Frodo's initial question of why elves were unable to build houses by themselves) had shown an unusual interest in the book and had tried his best on more than one occasion to remove the book from Frodo's grasp in order to 'correct' it. As Frodo had continued to question him about the building of the city (where in Middle Earth did the giants come from? And what were they, storm giants or trolls?) Gelmir had become more and more agitated, trying to distract the hobbit with songs of the mighty Turgon the Wise. This had failed and the more agitated the elf became the more inquisitive the hobbit grew.

The struggle rapidly drew in spectators. Eomer (having managed to convince himself that his good Lady Wife would not really miss him another few weeks) had taken up position opposite Frodo in Elrond's chair by the fire. He was nursing a tankard of dwarven ale, extremely grateful that the dwarves of the Lonely Mountain had started brewing the minute they had arrived. True enough the beer was not as mature as it should be, however it was a distinct improvement on the spring water that had been served at breakfast. At his side now sat Faramir, who had taken a great interest in the giants and had even been trying to interrupt with questions about where the white stone had been obtained from as Minas Tirith was in desperate need of repairs since Gimli had taken up residence there.

As Frodo's account drew into the floods which had swept away more than just the odd bridge Gemlir tried to enlist the assistance of his kinsmen.

"You must listen to us," the elf had cried with a look of deepest alarm, "That book is incorrect! The dwarves did not even know of the city's existence! They had never even visited it, so how on earth could they have flooded it? It was the wrath of the house of Egalmoth when he was not permitted to marry the lovely Aredhel. Surely you have heard the lament?"

Frodo considered this. If he said no then Gelmir would sing it and days later when the entire audience finally were allowed to leave he would not have finished his book. On the other hand were he to say yes Gelmir would probably sing it anyway because elves liked showing off. Indeed, at the mention of a song Lindir had come running forward with a harp, only to be tripped up by an over excited Sam and sent sprawling into the hearthrug.

A quick thinking Eomer retrieved the harp and neatly deposited it into the fire with a blasé "Thank you for the extra wood Lindir! Such thoughtfulness is not to be found in the south, I must commend your Lord in the hospitality of your people."

After another moment's thought in which the harp started to crackle merrily, Frodo finally replied "No thank you Gelmir, I don't think I want to hear it. It might spoil the lovely story later on."

"But it is incorrect!" Gelmir cried, the scent of burning harp now filling his nostrils. "I do not want you to have been misguided in the doings of my people, it would be a great injustice to us!"

Lindir managed to save himself from the fire and trying not to look too undignified arose. "He is quite correct most Noble hobbit," this was delivered with a scathing look at Sam who was looking crestfallen at the lack of song. "It seems that the records of Gondolin have become rather confused. I cannot begin to imagine why this might be."

"I have an idea," Eomer helpfully interjected into the conversation, "Perhaps the reason is to do with the fact that the one person who was actually there – Garfinkle, Gloryfindilly or something,"

"Glorfindel," Aragorn suggested, having stretched himself out upon the floor by the fire next to Frodo. He had given up on finding his wife, and as she was probably with Galadriel it seemed a rather pointless exercise.

"Possibly, he has never managed to tell me his name the same twice. Usually his speech is slurred or inane babble." Eomer continued with a raised tankard to his liege lord, "whomever he is, from what I have seen he is usually so drunk it is impossible to get any sense out of him. Perhaps that is the reasoning behind the inconsistencies in song and verse."

"Or what is more likely," Faramir announced gravely, "They make it up as they go along. That would result in such a large amount of fabrications in the telling!"

"What scandal is this!" Cried Haldir, trying to save a little of his already insecure reputation. "How can you accuse one of the greatest warriors of weaving tales of deceit!" He had been positioned by a window, and since breakfast had been keeping a keen eye on as many high buildings as possible in Imladris. Owing to the number of trees brought in by the Mirkwood elves this had not proved an easy occupation.

"He's not that good," Elrohir exclaimed, finally giving up his hiding place of behind a tapestry depicting 'Spring in the Valley.' It had been a functional hiding place in the faraway days of his youth especially when his father had been onto the forth decanter of wine and the dancing in the hall had become riotous. "I have managed to beat him several times now. And not only when he has been drinking." The elf pushed Gelmir out of the way and wrenched the book out of Frodo's hands, much to the annoyance of everyone else. Frodo's azure-blue eyes filled with tears. Why could he not simply enjoy a book in peace?

Elrohir looked at the book which had caused such a disturbance in the supposedly peaceful valley. On seeing who is was written by he snorted and dropped it inadvertently onto Frodo's furry toes. It seemed Elladan and Bilbo had been planning this for a while. In all honesty it was a pity Glorfindel had not read it in a sober state, he was an amusing elf when enraged.

Sam, on seeing the beloved furry toes bruised, decided it was time to take matters into his own hands. He stalked out of the Hall of the Fire and went to find someone who could sort out the rabble of elves and men whom seemed to be determined to upset his master and interrupt the story telling. Elrond was going to have to do something more than sit around and make pointed remarks about the doom of men.

_The Council Chamber_

Cirdan was once more furious. He had been insulted yet again by a hobbit, a host that was unable to control his guests and the wizard to whom he had given Narya. Celebrian seemed totally oblivious to anything and anyone except small furry things, and the promised entertainment which would surely reaffirm to everyone that elves were in fact far more intelligent than anyone else was now set for disaster. As Cirdan stomped around the chamber that had not that long ago hosted a collection of dwarves, elves, men and hobbits with a rather pretty ring, his thoughts became darker and darker. So dark that he did not notice the hobbit-gardener marching firmly towards him.

"Begging your pardon Mr Cirdan Sir," Sam began in what he hoped was a polite voice, "But I was looking for Master Elrond, if you follow me. Me master's not happy and not even Strider is trying to help him!"

Wordlessly Cirdan pointed at the door that led into Elrond's chamber. He could already hear the hushed sniggers of Celebrian and the weary sigh from Elrond. Once Sam was safely behind the closed door Cirdan took up position in a chair nearest to where the hobbit had gone in the hope of dropping a few eaves.

To his horror, once he had settled himself the meddlesome hobbit missus appeared and sat down firmly opposite him with an air of something important to say.

"Mr Cirdan," Rosie began, whilst looking down her nose; a habit she had picked up from Galadriel, "I regret to inform you that my co-worker Galadriel is not happy with you. She is very concerned that you are making yourself disagreeable to many people in Imladris."

"Its Lord Cirdan to you," Cirdan spat back at the hobbit who had her head tilted back so far he could see up her nose, "And I simply cannot fathom what it is you are referring to. I am one of the most respectable people East of the Sea," the shipwright continued, trying to ignore the sniggering that was now coming from several people the other side of the door.

Rosie was unconcerned by the elf-lord's demeanour. "I have heard that you are planning of starting an 'art gallery' with ladies of a less than savoury nature. This does not fit with a 'respectable lord.' So as far as I am concerned your protests are all in vain. I shudder to think what others would make of such actions." The hobbit closed her eyes it total revulsion. "It has been put into the agenda of the next WMU meeting." Satisfied that Cirdan was now listening (indeed he had turned a pretty shade of crimson) Rosie made herself comfortable and started to make a long list of demands that she needed met for the evening's entertainments. Being slightly more sensible than some people gave them appreciation for the WMU had decided not to approach Elrond with the list of food, drink and songs that would be needed for the rescue and subsequent wedding, so had decided to go for the next reasonably important person. As Cirdan did not seem to be doing anything particularly useful the WMU had come to the accord that he would be the best to make demands of.

"And so Mr Cirdan," Rosie concluded, pausing on account of the faint sound of laughter coming from a nearby room, "We need your assistance in the gathering of everyone and everything for this evening. You must make sure that it is all ready by sundown." Satisfied that she had got her message across, Rosie got up and walked towards the door of Elrond's chamber ignoring the splutters of incoherent rage that seemed to be coming from Cirdan.

_Elrond's Chamber_

Sam was trying to work out why Mr and Mrs Elrond were ignoring him and periodically smirking and giggling. When he had entered he had found Gandalf happily blowing smoke rings around the room and rambling away in a language that no one understood. Bilbo was sitting next to a fire and was scrawling upon any bit of paper he could get his hands on. The lord and lady of the house had a faraway look in their eyes and did not appear to notice his entrance.

After what seemed like a lifetime to the hobbit the elves came out of whatever stupor they were in and started to look around for the new interloper. Before Sam could muster up the courage to speak (somehow the sight of Mrs Elrond with cat in her hair had distracted him of his rehearsed speech), the door opened again and his wife walked in, leaving the humble gardener thunderstruck.

Rosie however did not stop to greet her host nor make enquiries as to how Celebrian's application for joining the WMU was coming along. Instead she strode through the chamber and wrenched open the opposite door which led towards the WMU headquarters.

Satisfied that he would not be subjected to Rosie's anger for at least another hour (it was nearly time for luncheon) Gandalf ceased his ramblings and enquired to Samwise what it was he was doing. After a few more minutes whilst Sam rocked on his heels and clasped his hands in front of him a few times to ensure that he was presentable, he finally found the capacity to speak.

"Well Mr Gandalf Sir, it's Mr Frodo," Sam addressed the wizard. "He was sitting by the fire in the Hall of the Fire, all comfy-like and then other people started to pester him. He was just sitting reading about the fall of Gondolin and how the giants made it white."

"Not sure about the authenticity of this," Elrond mused. "It is a wonder he found any such book here."

"Well that was what other people were trying to tell him, begging your pardon Sir," Sam continued, "Only they did it by burning harps and arguing. And then someone – on account of the lady I won't say who," Sam glanced at Celebrian and blushed, hoping that Elrond did not notice. "Snatched it out of Master Frodo's hands he did and then dropped it upon his toes!"

"My guess is probably Elladan," Celebrian suggested. "He never has had any respect for hairy toes. And to be honest I know where he gets that from." Here Celebrian gave a furtive glance at her husband making Sam go even redder.

Elrond gave a low chuckle at this comment. _He_ had never had hairy toes. "So did your master actually come to any devastating harm Master Samwise?" Elrond politely enquired. "Because if he hasn't and my healing skills are not needed then I must attend to the preparation of the festivities planned for this evening. I believe your wife is being instrumental in organising it."

Sam looked down at his own hairy feet and started mumbling about something to do with a flowerbed that needed weeding. It seemed totally unfair that he was being blamed for the actions of the WMU. It wasn't as though he was the only one who was married to a member of it. How on earth could he attempt to do anything about their plans when he was unable to even look their chairperson in the eye?

Celebrian, remembering that she rather liked the hobbits, patted Sam on the head and asked him if he would be able to help set up the various pavilions and tables which would be needed to hold the food and drink required for a wedding feast.

Like Elanor when she saw someone with long hair, Sam immediately forgot the impending wrath of the WMU for not looking after Mr Frodo and trotted off to the stables where Celebrian assured him he would find the people ready to help him. Sam being a fairly simple minded fellow did not think that the request was a bit odd. He would however be reunited with Bill; something that had the potential to keep him occupied for many hours, especially when the stable hands had written poems depicting the valiant efforts Bill had made in delivering his charges out of danger.

Turning her attention back to her husband, Celebrian decided the time had come for her to take a firm hand in sorting out the disaster which was to be the failed rescue attempt. There was no way the Mirkwood elf stood a chance of removing anyone from any tower. If left to his own devices Gimli would dig underneath any building he could find in order to release the poor defenceless maiden thus destroying Imladris utterly. And if Gandalf and Elrond were left to their own devices nothing would happen as they would be too busy postulating all the possibilities of what _could_ happen, as well as perhaps creating a song or two about the great sadness of love unfulfilled. It was clear a female who was in possession of her wits was the only person who could stem the tide of impending doom.

The first thing she had to do was alert the kitchens and the cellar keepers. That way at least a few basic needs of the guests would be met. Gently but firmly Celebrian extracted the cat from her hair and deposited it neatly in the log basket where it started to howl.

Turning to her husband (who had adopted the thoughtful pose which could only mean he was thinking of ways to eradicate the dwarves again) Celebrian drew herself up to her full height. "I need you to make sure that everyone is present in the central courtyard before sundown. This includes the Mrikwood King who is not allowed to destroy the Romantic Glade." Here Gandalf started choking on the obnoxious smelling pipeweed. "It is imperative," Celebrian continued, her voice rising slightly, "That this is concluded tonight. I am fed up with Cirdan being here, sick of the sight of these wretched dwarves messing about in the flower beds," Elrond raised an eyebrow at this statement, knowing full well his wife had played a rather large part in some of the excavations, "And quite frankly I want my dratted mother to leave. Her mind is being pushed to breaking point with all this nonsense about the WMU, she clearly needs to get away from it all, and people are going to start to think I am related to her!" Celebrian's voice had raised slowly but steadily throughout the diatribe.

Sensibly the Wizard and the Master of Rivendell nodded in acceptance. It was quite clear that Celebrian was related to Galadriel. Even more clear that soon enough she too would be a member of the WMU if hasty action was not taken. Elrond sighed heavily and after a few minutes of careful consideration reached into the depths of his robes for a key. "You will need this," he said, his voice full of undisclosed promises and seriousness. "Take it to Mablung, he will know what to do."

_Kitchens of Imladris_

Elladan had reconciled himself with the staff of the kitchens. He had spun a few tales of how it was that Galadriel had accepted the advances of Durin back in the days of old and then how the 'Art gallery' opening soon in the Grey Havens would be a welcome break for all elves stifled by the trials and tribulations of such a hectic life of ring destroying. The kitchen staff whom had not heard many amusing stories for a while had been delighted with this distraction. As a body they had quickly forgotten that Elladan was in fact the reason that Rivendell was in its current state. Even Mablung who had sent a rather rude demand to Elrond the previous day had overlooked Elladan's misdoings and was now ignoring the smell of burnt bread coming from a bread oven in order to more accurately understand the finer points of Galadriel and Durin's courtship. Was this where the Lady of Lorien had learnt the art of dwarven wrestling? And why was it not recorded anywhere?

And so once breakfast had been sent up the dozen or so elves who had the vocation of feeding Imladris had taken up position around the larger of the kitchens, a barrel of wine had been opened and the stories began to grow. Bread continued to burn, no one thought about luncheon, and the problem of what to feed the hoard of people above stairs had become a distant memory. As Bilbo had once reported, elves could live quite easily off songs and tales and so could not understand anyone who was unable to.

Throwing a handful of flour into the air to create a 'snow scene' in the middle of a story about Gandalf and a frog, Elladan paused in his telling to see a familiar face at the doorway. As the flour began to settle and the tension in the tale grew elves leaned in, eager to find out the fate of the amphibian. Was it caught by the Gollum? Did it escape the clutches of the wizard and go on to live a fulfilled and happy life in the marshes? A hush descended on the company as Elladan prepared to give the upshot of the narrative.

Celebrian raised her eyebrows at her son, wondering if she had actually told him the correct version of what happened or whether she too had fabricated it a bit for sake of amusement. The proper version was a cautionary tale for children to remind them that wizards were dangerous and unpredictable folk who should be avoided at all costs. The doom of the frog was that it had actually ended up in the cauldron in the making of some ale which had been drunk by Sauruman, however it was unlikely that Elladan knew that particular version.

"And so, the frog has never been seen since," Elladan finally came out with, "It is rumoured that Gandalf still has the frog on his person, although this has not ever been confirmed. And as Wizards are unlikely folk it is probably best that no one asks him either."

Celebrian rolled her eyes heavenwards. It was apparent that despite her best intentions and efforts, her sons simply did not have the knack for dramatic telling of legends.

Mablung looked rather disappointed. But after refilling the goblet he was drinking from and throwing a bit more flour around he noticed the Lady of Imldaris standing in the doorway. Leaping to his feet he strode over to her and bowed low. "A great pleasure as always, lady." Mablung announced happily, trying to stifle a belch. "How may I be of service to you? It surely is not time for luncheon yet?" At this there was a half hearted effort by some of his companions to move. Most managed to get as far as the wine barrel but no attempt was made on anything else.

"My husband, Master Elrond," Celebrian said firmly and in a louder voice than was needed, "Has asked you all to prepare for a feast this evening. He said to give you this." And the key was handed over.

Mablung looked down at the key, knowing full well what it meant. His eyes went back to Celebrian and then returned to the key.

"Do not ask me if I am sure," Celebrian said forcefully, when Mablung opened his mouth to speak, "I know full well what you are thinking. And yes we can all go without luncheon. Except perhaps the hobbits."

Mablung, sensing that fate was giving him an opportunity to prove himself yet again as the true Master of Rivendell looked at Celebrian and finally nodded. "Permit me to know when and where. And I am going to need a few more helpers who are not inebriated, if that is possible."

Accepting his bow, Celebrian twirled on her heel and made her way out of the kitchen. It was finally time to go into battle and accept the place in the WMU that her mother would undoubtedly offer her. This was a tactic she had read about, going behind enemy lines. It was the only way that anything remotely memorable would happen that evening.

_WMU headquarters_

Galadriel had happily taken up position by a window that looked out across the stunning valley that was her daughter's home. The sun caught on the waterfalls spreading rainbows across the waterways, the birds were merrily singing and the roses were giving off a faint but undeniably beautiful scent. Gazing out across the valley thinking of what possibly could be a very happy day for all concerned Galadriel recounted the conversation she had had with Rosie. The WMU were in agreement that a lot needed doing before the evening, however there simply were not enough of them to complete the task. Having never done a day's proper work in their lives no member of the WMU really knew how to go about organising a wedding feast, all they could do was tell other people to. And so they had chanced upon the idea of commanding Cirdan to sort it out. They had 'leverage' as Arwen had carefully put it and it would have been totally unfair to ask Elrond to do anything as he would have been occupied with the reunion of his wife. Here the WMU had paused to simper and give romantic sighs.

Rosie who had been getting a bit peckish (it had been nearly three hours since breakfast and the sun was telling her that it was time for the next meal) had stalwartly declared that she was not afraid of Cirdan and so would go and give it to him straight. She had done so and had just reappeared in the room looking downcast owing to there being no food in sight.

Arwen had safely locked Legolas in a cupboard and as the prince was now despairing for his one true love he had fallen silent. This had proved a very welcome response for the WMU.

"So all is prepared!" Galadriel announced, really pleased to be mistress of the situation. "We have the feast being laid on, Idril is ready to be rescued and Legolas is preparing for to liberate the imprisoned lady!"

"Should we attend the decorating of the courtyard?" Arwen suggested. "You know if it is left to Cirdan then it will never be done tastefully."

"That is a good point." Rosie begrudgingly said. "We cannot have such details left to men. You know how unromantic they are. What we need are garlands, large garlands of flowers."

"But what colours should be used?" Arwen asked, trying not to think about how long it had taken her to decide. Had Aragorn appeared a few centuries earlier she would not have been in a position to accept him as the colours for the wedding had only been finally decided upon when the Lonely Mountain had been reclaimed. And then, after a few thousand years the decision had felt a bit rushed.

"Perhaps we should use as many colours as possible," Galadriel suggested, "Just to make sure we get the right ones in somewhere."

"But we can't have them clashing!" Arwen exclaimed, nearly close to tears. "It would not work-" The discussion was abruptly halted as a polite knock resounded on the door. Hoping this was the herald of luncheon Rosie scuttled across the room to open the door.

"Good afternoon," Celebrian said politely. "I hope I am not interrupting or making a nuisance of myself. I would very much like," Here the Lady crossed her fingers behind her back, "to become a member of the Working Mother's Union, as I do feel that I have unused talents and I have a real passion for working with others."

"We shall have to consider your application mother," Arwen said unsteadily, with a glance up at her grandmother. "I am not sure that you are the material we are looking for."

"But wait!" Celebrian announced, "Here comes your luncheon. I had it ordered specially." Mablung himself swept in with a tray of cold meats and cheese with yesterday's left over bread. Bowing respectfully to the WMU he kept his eyes upon the floor and hurried out, not daring to meet Celebrian's eye.

"I think you would be a fine candidate for our cause," Rosie said happily, with a cheerful smile to the now groaning table. "Especially if you are prepared to assist us in preparations for this evening."

Galadriel, delighted that her only daughter had seen sense, tearfully embraced her. "I cannot say that I was not disappointed this did not come sooner, however long years of separation from all that you held dear must have been a trying thing. I am willing to forgive you for not coming to us earlier, and wish you every success as part of our group."

Arwen, on hearing such a motivational speech by the Chairperson stifled a sob and went to embrace her mother. From her position at the table Rosie looked on with fondness. Soon enough her Elanor would also be a part of this fellowship. Perhaps Idril too, if fate was kind enough.

"So how are the plans for the evening coming on," Celebrian politely enquired, trying not to sound too enthusiastic. "Is there anything I can do to help proceedings?"

So excited were the WMU by their concocted plans that in half an hour they had explained exactly to Celebrian what was to happen. "And Gandalf has the most amazing firework for us!" Rosie exclaimed, squirming with delight. "It will bring the whole evening together, with singing and merriment!"

"We just need to make sure that Legolas rescues Idril at the right moment and that Idril accepts the proposal from the handsome prince." Galadriel added, trying to make light of the weak point in the plan which until now they had ignored.

"I know just how to do that," Celebrian replied, a smile spreading over her face, "Leave that with me."


End file.
